Toast with marmalade. Ancient sunlight resting lightly on the northwest surfaces of curtains, restaurant tables, hands. Feeling in full possession of myself at last. The dark rind of my heart settles deeper in its nest of ribs, and I scan the world with a hunter's eye, relaxed but deliberate: the sense of being master of my surroundings, once so common and recently so rare, has come back.
I slept, in two stages, until I was all slept out. It's been a couple weeks since that last happened. I feel like the grass that finally got its rain a couple days ago: a sudden unexpected strength is running through me.
Not that this sense of invulnerability is to be believed. It's one face that turns to me, out of many.
I'm tired of all the old stories, the laments for vanished makers, the regrets for fallen kingdoms. I want to make something new and vigorous and shameless, something that will gleam, something that will catch the setting sun and hold it in the sky. Something that will force other faces to turn to me. There are more, there are more who have business with me before the end. It's time to call them up.
4 comments:
Oh my goodness, this is amazing. I woke up this morning with a new sense of passion and purpose after many months of feeling sluggish and uncertain...you've captured so well exactly how I feel! :)
Oh my goodness, this is amazing. I woke up this morning with a new sense of passion and purpose after many months of feeling sluggish and uncertain...you've captured so well exactly how I feel! :)
"I slept, in two stages, until I was all slept out." Thank you for this hopeful missive from the land of the rested; it's going to be a while before I get there myself, though. ;-)
It's hard to accept joy and strength when they come, knowing it is, as you say,'one face that turns to me, out of many'. But this is so inspiring, and heartening. Good courage to you friend, call them up!
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