1d763efcda321356fee424333900e93a--sunrise-and-sunset-golden-hourYou are afraid to shut the front door
it is an unblinking eye to the living
you are attached to a virus, like a fly
stuck firm in ointment, will
be claimed slow and sure
by its urge to escape, it shall
sink deeper and knowing this, you
refuse to close away the day, but
by standing against urging cold air
feeling labored breath of all those
who maintain and climb their days into years
by the touch of their effort, and the rise and fall
of that buoyant world
you shall rejoin the wheel as it arcs and spins
counting down our mortal pieces
such as we are, labored by knowing
how fragile the shimmer of life
yet, not yet, yet
we are still
afloat

13 Replies to “That buoyant world”

  1. This is you writing it out as you so often do:
    “you are attached to a virus, like a fly
    stuck firm in ointment, will
    be claimed slow and sure
    by its urge to escape,”
    It’s good to bear witness to the consistent release. I’m praying each day provides you with peace and healing.

  2. Relating to this, Candice. The need to keep the door open is both literal (we are still part of that world!) and symbolic. What we must guard against doing is letting the illness define us. We are not this virus. It will not own us. I’ve learned to dispossess it. It’s still there but it isn’t “my” sickness, it’s “the” sickness. And someday you’ll be free of it. Keep that door open so you can kick it to the curb and dance freely in the sunshine again!
    Continuing to hold you in my thoughts and prayers, dear friend. ā¤ļøšŸŒ¼

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