Sunday, May 19, 2013

A Faintly Visible Silver

I'm very light. I think maybe I burned all up: I'm ash, now. I once saw a sheet of newspaper fall into a very hot campfire: the entire sheet flared and turned carbon-black, all at once, still whole, its type a faintly visible silver. And it floated back towards the sky, in one piece.

I'm adrift like that: transformed, possibly ruined, but whole, and drifting very gently. I have been a long time aloft.

Self-exiled from my friends, from my writing, from all the life I knew before. But I'm coming home now, with my black, silver-tattooed wings shivering. Gliding down to rest, softly. Maybe I'll come to bits, snagged on twig-points and leaf-ends and fence-posts. But maybe I'm fine. Who knows?

Once upon a time, Prince Siddhartha Gautama decided enough was enough. It was time to sit down, and not to get up again until he had solved the problem of suffering. But you have to reach the ground, before you can do something like that.

So many things happened in such rapid succession. I was dazed by the end of it. Because for many long years nothing had happened, and I had grown accustomed to nothing happening. I thought nothing would ever happen again. Then, whoosh! The fire – and again – and again –

And now, the ground coming slowly up to meet me; the night air gently laying me down.

5 comments:

elisasspot said...

this has me laughing, I hope that is okay. In my head I said, "and THAT is the meaning of Up, Up, and Over, my friend." I say that to a client, become friend of mine. And then I wink. He says, "How do I stop having to climb?" And I say, "If you want to get to a place you HAVE to move." Life on life's terms moves, we move, we burn, we get back up, we stand our ground, we dance the dance the Creator has given us as our grace for coping and growing.

Additional note, I used to think that I was not enough if I could not be grounded all of the time. How HILARIOUS!! The if-onlies are out to get me I SWEAR IT!! hehehe

Zhoen said...

(o)

Dale said...

I like that you laugh, Elisa!

:-) thanks Zhoen --

rbarenblat said...

I have seen sheets of printed paper flare and turn black, as you describe, and it is strangely beautiful.

May the night air be gentle with you, now and always.

Rouchswalwe said...

I am imagining a painting by Chagall come to life ...