All love is, inherently, selfish. Ponder.
~Me
“(Isn’t memory often about loneliness?)”
— David Bottoms, from “Black Horses,” Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch (Copper Canyon Press, 2018)
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
~Mary Elizabeth Frye
I don't feel so good today.
I feel a strange, ancient ache in my soul. An aged feel to my rigid bones that once held the weight of the earth and the sky. Now they wish to rest, to turn to dust. They have endured enough weathering. I feel nostalgic for a life I have never lived, for a life I wish I lived. I suppose I do understand this humane desire. The soul was never meant to stay on the earth. It was meant to rise. And here, now, it is bound to, shackled to this body and inadvertently, to this world,held taut by the unyielding chains of gravity. I yearn for the day I return home. Up there.
I don't feel so good today and that's fine.
~Me
There is only one victory, and it has someone else's name on it.
~Me
Virginia Woolf〡Selected Prose; Mrs Dalloway
"If you could see yourself through my eyes ,mom, you'd think that you embedded the diamond stars in the ink stained universe with your bare, calloused hands."
And when the stars giggled, I found myself bursting into joy again. Such is beauty, such is pain. I always find my way back again.
~Me
Jacob Wrestling with the Angel (Painting), 1843
by Alexandre Louis Leloir.