Thursday, June 16, 2011

Wonderful. P2

I made the call from Heathrow on the transfer from Paris to Newark. I got my brother. He said the word - - my father had already flown out. I had, would upon my arrival have, missed him. He had been teetering on the precipice for months, I had misjudged his balance. He had fallen hours before I arrived. He fell silently, smoothly, everything in order. My presence, in the end, would have been for me. It’s the desire to see our kith and kin before they depart on grand voyages.

I thought about you today in the vines, it’s funny how present you’ve become in your super-flowering state, you command attention with your balancing act. I was working my way through the rows, taking out any, and I thought all, unnecessary growth when I came across a small birds nest built within one of the vines.

Oh. Four tiny brown speckled eggs huddled in a nest intricately woven within the new shoots. Alive - delicate, precise, against all odds, and yet there it was, and for the moment full of life. Ah - there you are.

When your friend and I had put together our little book of sweet smiles and you had critically given it a good look I remembered you being in disaccord with my statement that the beauty that surrounds us is less staggering than the beauty we can imagine. At the time I countered with my blasphemous reasoning, but upon seeing that nest today, so wonderously there, I suddenly became conscious that you were right. We are incapable of imagining something so unexpected and perfect – beautiful - in it’s being.

I spend a short moment with awe, and you, bonheur. I smiled out loud, then went on with my work. Did you hear me screaming your name – P.......

Do you hear me whispering it now – peace.

Falling Slowly Down the Stairs. P1

I didn’t get a call at 3 :30 in the morning telling me that you had fallen, coming up/or going down the stairs we will never be sure of, and were not going to make it back to the plane we were flying on together.

Your call came in the early evening, though it seems like gravity has started pulling you down to your cellar floor too. From what you say, it sounds like you may be booking flight on the same plane my sister is on.

It seems the most shocking thing that can happen.

We pre-view so much, but there are some things that happen out of our fixed order. It bamboozles on fundamental levels. The future becomes limited. Time appears finite. The sense of loss/losing is unrelenting and sorrowful. I wish I could help you, but I am limited to thinking of you. The veil has opened to you, and only you know what that conjures up.

You may not know it but you have spared us. Kindly given to us the luxury of watching you, listening to you, feeling stunned along with you as you stumble slowly on the stairway. Your balance right now seems so tenuous. I am helpless to aid you regain it, in only that sense our frustration may be equal.

I am hoping for you, not even that you don’t tumble and fall, because we all do that eventually, but just hoping that if you do fall, the trip down isn’t so painful, that you are aware, and knowing that you are loved, and that you are LOVE.

I am so sad to hear of the route your trip calls for, I was really looking forward to seeing you.

If you need anything -