Friday, January 19, 2007

Under a cloud

Watching Grey's Anatony it all came back. The feeling of her skin, her little hand in mine as her shell all but remaind. A reminance of a little life that touched so many. Those little fingers ever so ethereal in their beauty and structure. A once living symbol still exists on a pope's sceptor - her hand carried across through time to have blessed so many with her living form - especially me.

As Mars flew high into that August night sky, her spirit flew in such brilliance shadowing the planets red glow with her own light. Off she flies to dance with a friend, meet some relatives and occasionally remind me she still loves me with presents of feathers.

I wonder if I collect enough of them to make wings large enough, can I fly up to be with you?

Not yet it seems, perhaps for a long time should I be so blessed?!

Slowly the lump of ancient ice melts in my throat. The ice as ancient as the shelf in the artic, slowly melts evolving into tears that fall filled with salt of timeless ages. Covered by the cloud that hovers so momentarily, I know this too passes and the sun comes out again.

1 comment:

MJ said...

Close your eyes...wrap your arms around your shoulders.. and squeeze..Love you, MJ