Now...it connects across the years...through cries of love.of tears and sunset skies...Wow...she soarsand thereshe flies...And...no thing dies.
How the blinks and winks and moments carry eternity like a flash of lightning; weaving through bulging clouds in a July thunderstorm. All that is... there but just for a second. Just for the now... And here I AM. In...
Stacy, MN. Son Jake's beautiful, rural homestead. An extended stay/stop before an even more 'extended' stay in the land of Quetzalcoatl and Tequila. But I digress.
Now.
From the space between the bars.
Again.
I think of Blake in paraphrases...
to hold a world in a grain of sandand a heaven in a flower...infinity in the palm of your handand eternity in an hour...
Over two long-short years ago, I pecked my last entry here. It, too was delinquent. Long over-due.
So Now... it is time... time we 'flip the script'.
Better yet... we
Script the flip!
Here's a new chapter of my journey with a twist in style. Going forward. Moving ahead.
From the opening of my recently completed work: The 7 Weavings; A Gift of Webs & Wisdom from along the Gossamer Trail,
We come alonewe leave aloneand in between we sing aloneSo dance we must and thrash our swordsAnd run not from... but atand towards
So...
Wow.
The word has become a sacred emanation for me. After sweet Keeli; my muse, reclaimed her blessed wings; in the space between the bars and blog entries, I have also felt raised to a higher understanding of the degree to which we set our energies and feelings and sights. And future memories.
Keeli's passing; a year and a month ago, was wondrous in itself. how she flew off in the middle of the night, unannounced. My vision was altered from that moment. Through the tears and sadness and ultimately the gladness; for all the lessons learned and love gathered from her over a decade of companionship, travel and intimate emanations, her loss of physicality transcended not into a Good-bye but much more, a Hello from here... we have work to do.
How quickly she went to work on me.
From The 7 Weavings:
~Epilogue: Ave Maria, FLAt 3:17 am on Sunday, the 2nd of June, 2019, I was dreaming of a whale singing. After realizing the sound was coming from Keeli, she had flown from her beautiful body by the time I reached her on the floor. She was gone. I held her; soft and warm, together, until sunrise.Twice she had fought back lymphoma. Heroically. We had many walks to share. So I thought. So did all who knew her. We never ever took a day for granted, Keeli was happily embracing each day like it was forever...I took to our trail that evening. Had to. Keeli's collar and walking stick in hand. As the sun set, I felt gossamer strands being pulled from my hurting heart, straight out into the twilight. Revealed, were loving words of wisdom.When I release the need for explanationThen, my soul is embracedWith the liberationof Joy
Again, from the cogent words of Blake:
...who binds to Joy
does the winged life destroybut...
who kisses the Joy as it flieslives...
in Eternity's sunrise
The extreme stimulation of all my senses; physically, emotionally and spiritually, in the days following Keeli's passing came to over-whelm me. I had the awareness to realize this massive force could easily hold me back; lock me into a state of loss, choked by the precious and wondrous feelings and memories of the past... or... free me and propel me to greater heights and views that were beyond imagination. A place of new memories; from yet-unknown feelings and imaginal experiences.
Somehow... I felt them. In the colors and the sounds and the gossamer streamers connecting everything to everywhere.
I was immersed with Keeli's sense and source of love. I was led/allowed/shown the way; somehow, to consolidate the uncollectible into a simple word... A designated, dedicated sound... that would free me from explanation. For me and others. A tool and a tactic. When I would say it and feel it, it would simply be... me.
In the midst of invitationmy soul took on wings
of new creation
And from strands of gossamer
glowing in air
Linked
I saw all things worth knowing
there
Wow...
I chose the word Wow. I think the word found me... in the same way I really didn't find Keeli...
It would serve me as my verbal go-to bottomless bucket/well/Grand Canyon that held it all. Always and forever. My reservoir of God's gifts. From the past. And the Future. And most importantly. From the Now... A simple little over-used word. But perfect for me... Moving toward simple.
Wow...
To kiss her again, I would let her go and fly into Wow... The sacred release...
The words emanated from her energy and I'm so grateful. She placed them into my heart that first sunset-walk-night of the next chapter. Still my muse, and more than ever.
I wrote those words on a poster and put it on the wall above her bowls. I repeated them often those days and weeks on our walks and runs and pondering moments. They've been infused into my soul.
When I release the need... for explanation
Then, my soul is embraced
With the liberation...
of Joy
Thank you, Girl. One less thing to explain.
Wow.
And Now...
I've embarked upon catching up. Not so much again, as in the past. But in the Now. I'm really on a trek to get to the start. (Spoiler Alert: Return to Zenith Station in progress) Together, we are going to flip the script. To do that, I'm going to teach us along the way, to script the Flip. That part comes first. And we already know how to do that. We just might not believe it. Or be conscious of it. Trust me.
I do.
Q: Is there anything more therapeutic than making hay
Dad (recovered) request to son after picking up, loading up and storing 500 (OK; over 5 days) sold-before-we-knew-it bales of ( sweet smelling- but prickly-get-everyplace-in-your-clothes Brome, Fescue, and Timothy grass) hay :
Jake, there's two more big fields to cut. Please get a picker-uper thing!
Ha! Boarding soon... for the land of the Charros and the Western Stars.
They're shining bright again...
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