What makes the lines at the corners of your eyes curl slightly upward like lashes? What makes you swim in breathless calm? What makes you feel as if you have always existed but just been born? What makes you forget about all the tomorrows and yesterdays and feel perfectly contented here, now? What is it that makes your heart beat like a swarm of wild horses galloping to shake the earth? What is it in this life that speaks to your soul like a poet's tongue?
Four things come to my mind today.
The first is something personal and raw, but something beautiful indeed.
The second is when I find myself again on 61, driving home with the moon already pulled mid-way across its course, both of us contentedly alone. Then I see her--! my thoughts on their rabbit trails fade to a halt and I can't seem to roll down the windows fast enough: to hear her steady beating against the tracks, her voice calling out, a desperate voice, a purposeful voice, and her heavy lift and fall, racing me, parallel to 61.
The third. When I wander the crags that follow the shores of Lake Superior, listening to her faithful music, so soothed. There is a dusty, soulful sense of belonging by that sea, as if it's one of God's favorite places too.
The fourth. When the sun is golden as it falls and its touch feels like a hundred kisses or a crown of wildflowers to braid into my hair when it was long. It is my favorite painting. My favorite artist, right before Monet.
I think I will write out more of these to remember, m
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