Split the sky, flesh out
flickering tongue of union.
Earth and sky conspire…
…fullness for the heart.
But first storming shaking awe
tearing out the loss.
Life is striking and splitting the sky of my roiling world here. I’m hoping to still have a home by the end of the year. But am not sure if that hope is simply the knee-jerk survival instinct ignoring the exultation of liberating lightning flashing across the mire of endurance my world has been at times. In short, it feels somewhat, to my chagrin, glorious to feel the winds ripping away the moorings of my refuge.
We’ll see what life unfolds…
12 thoughts on “Split The Sky”
it is so well written!
For someone who’s been there, rolled blind, deaf, and mute through the white-water turbulence for over a year only to be washed ashore with no home, no job, no line of credit any longer, I can tell you I learned to value LIFE like I never had before. Whatever’s driving you to release your hold on life as you know it, is taking you to a stronger, more resilient place, dearheart.
Amen sister. Thank you. I walked out of a dental appointment for my middle son today, all of my kids with me and a keen awareness of no idea as to how we’d pay the bill (I hadn’t realized our medical savings account was drained!). You know what? All I could do was stop and hold my arms out and tell them “Oh my god, do you guys have any idea how much i love you?” my daughter just grabbed me in a big hug. then my sons. we stopped there on the porch of the office and just hugged each other with the rain falling. Running out of funds, no idea how things will pan out but a grand sense of having won the best lottery running. And peace. And such kind friends. As long as we have hugs, will travel and the rain can wash away those fears.
Your passion should help awaken me, but I am still lost in the storm. Thank you for still being there and being a friend. I am in the wind ungrounded. I yearn to be taken away. Instead, I am but twisted, turned, and touch down where I was. Where I was is no longer where I wish to be. It has consumed me. I hunger for more. I’ll explain later. I am glad you are there.
You are loved here, Gin. But you know that. Please do explain when you are able. You’re in my prayers and best sendings of strength and peace. I can relate, profoundly relate, to your description.
Here’s to your finding the earth of rest AND hope.
This is beautifully written and could not be expressed better. There is nothing more humbling than forces uprooting a home. My heart goes out to you and I was glad to learn you said you have support. I, too, faced demons of circumstance and learned to roll with the punches, but oh, I don’t wish for that for anyone.
thank you leslie…it ain’t easy. i love my lil home here. it’s a beauty however much in need of repair (built in 1949). i love the yard and trees. love all that it provides for my children and for me. i want to keep it and yet this town and i don’t feel like much of a match. i trust life. things have been heading for disaster for a looong time and it can start to feel like a prison. maybe this will rid us of some burdens but not oust us from our home. we shall see.
Hey! When there is nothing else to be done and the forces are inexorably advancing, then I STRONGLY suggest a little “fist shaking.” Defiance in the face of doom is a wonderfully liberating experience. Just throw back your head and howl with laughter at the storm. Not only is the release great but it pisses the hell out of the destructive forces.
Besides the above I have also been known to say, “Do what you can and want, but you can’t have my soul! Nyah Nyah Nyah!”
i’ve definitely done some snarling and balling of the fists as i stand here and refuse to be toppled by fear ( for more than, say, 24 hours anyway 😉 ). i find that joy is right there when i recognize the tides of life are what they are. they are not out to “get me.” but they sure can “get me” if i don’t snarl a bit sometimes and stand in resilient hopeful intent. the thing that can make me downright maudlin is the fatigue i’m going through at this time. two semesters (and and and) wiped out my reserves and i still have a ton of things to do and in spite of the joy i feel at the thought of doing just about anything when i have the energy, i do not relish having to bootstrap myself past the surreal bodyslam fatigue (and some bit of illness) shutting me down here lately. but it will pass as i roll in the rest of doing nothing. it’s a great amness released and releasing…
Good for you, Sistah Woman!
I know the fatigue and pain (physical and spiritual) that you are talking about. It can be a real faith shaker. Sometimes I just have to keep repeating, “It’s only a movie. It’s only a movie. It’s ONLY a movie.” 😉
Forces greater than you or anything that can be thrown at you have your back though.
To stand on the seawall while the hurricane drives the storm surge towards you and to shake your fist and shout, “COME AND GET ME! Is that the BEST you can do??” is truly an exhilarating feeling. It is also a good way to be killed.
To have everything physical thing sheared away and forever lost is truly liberating. I shook my fist daily for a while and had a few things stripped away and suffered damage to my health. I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. But . . . I was just myself . . . alone in the sensual world . . .
What I would have done if there had been others depending on me for comfort and shelter, I do not know . . .
i hear you, dearheart. this woman is most assuredly not shaking her fist at anything. i’m waiting to roll with the tide. there’s truly nothing else to be done. i respect the forces that have put me in this situation, both internal and external and i know life/love will sustain us all. but it might get pretty damn intense before it all pans out. i had my extreme fear meltdown and came out of it smiling. there’s no need to resist, just flow. and hopefully, grow. i have support both here (and thank you hugely) and there. thanks for sharing…