Wide awake in the darkness, I hear the midnight train calling out its passage through the meadows with the owl’s cottonwood stand. Another candle burns low, guttering in its sweat until it looks like a far-off moon rising over January ice in the lake country: cold. Defiant.
And to the many families I have met with over the last two years as a case manager of a social service agency--oh how my heart goes out to you. But I need it back, you see. I will go to the river to tell her your stories. I will be practicing releasing you from my burdened shoulders and heart. I have learned not to cry so I can be strong with you and for you while you tend to your children, your bodies, your shelter. I wept inside and I now ache. With so much gratitude for what I’ve learned from our journeys in securing what is necessary and vital, I bowed out of this role one week ago.
I can now give more time and heart to my path along the studies of healing. Acupuncture is in this house and it makes my mind and heart sing when mixed with the mysteries and truths of women’s bodies.
I draw myself close to the fires I have kindled along the years--they’ve never stopped burning. And you can see they trace a path of service and longing the entire way, my path. So too, do I draw myself close to the people who I love most, for I can feel lost and uprooted when I cast further out from their circle. May I know to be true: great work in the world can be done without the many eyes of strangers looking on. I do not need your permission for my movements.
snowghoul
2087
prguitarman
titsay
jbbartram-illu