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pete
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the story was told over and over, it ran through my mind and i wondered at its truth, which was assured in that simple folk_religion way.
how the darklings came and stole away the sun and how, in the end, for one reason or another, only the loons could save the sun and bring back day, though their song was twisted for it.
and then i realized understanding was setting in. i wandered my own pathways for so long, i had begun to forget what lay beyond the windows and doors. surrounded by work or books, everything that i've done in recent months seems so hollow, an echo of reality, or at least my perception of all that has happened has been one step removed.
i'd shiver if i hadn't trained myself to hold them in and treasure the slow release of energies, the beauty of simple reactions to complex events and happenings.
i'd shiver, but i already did, in each part of my body, each cell shaking in his own turn and place, shaking in pleasure and understanding, sighing deeply and forgiving. forgiving the whole which they create for the misunderstandings percieved through them.
i try to align thoughts with actions and images.. i really don't want to do this, stepping back from reality again. imposing order on my world, like reading a quebec weather forcast and assuming it holds true for north bay.
or are all words just for the moment? even those made in reflection. especially those made in reflection, as now.
that's a place i don't want to go yet, don't take me there.
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050828
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