11. hand to mouth |
I have explained, dear reader, that I travel light, my heart poised for losing, and the spade that makes my grave always at the ready. I have confessed the fears and fail...
Posted by The Other Marys on Wed, 20 Dec 2006 08:06:00 PST |
10. think not you can direct the course of love |
On Love
From The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among h...
Posted by The Other Marys on Fri, 15 Dec 2006 06:44:00 PST |
9. enmeshment |
Starting at birth, the most magnificent and devastating of all of our exiles, this world shows us daily that we are unmothered, unsheltered and responsible for our own souls. We connect with others ...
Posted by The Other Marys on Tue, 12 Dec 2006 08:55:00 PST |
8. salt-clean |
I don't know how long we lay together on that shore at the end of the world. But came a desert morning weightless, salt-clean, with an inelegant grey sky - when I woke beneath t...
Posted by The Other Marys on Fri, 08 Dec 2006 04:17:00 PST |
7. orphans all |
I came to the desert to be invisible, to find the time of no words, to fall apart. I came to the desert to get back to the beginning of things, before my straying. Before the floods and hurricanes and...
Posted by The Other Marys on Thu, 07 Dec 2006 12:56:00 PST |
6. underneath |
So I let fall my monk's habit, and fall it does. It falls like a stone, like a thousand stones, at my feet, collapsing down upon itself layer over layer, each fold obliterating the folds that fall bef...
Posted by The Other Marys on Thu, 07 Dec 2006 05:37:00 PST |
5. not goodbye |
I have said I do not know what to do when it is not goodbye. I don't trust it. There is something false about the not-goodbye. It seems a game of pretend to go on with the pleasantries of su...
Posted by The Other Marys on Wed, 06 Dec 2006 09:28:00 PST |
4. half-light |
I do not know how long I have been sleeping, but my fingernails are longer this morning. Actually this may not be morning. This could be dusk. It is half-light.
I do not know ho...
Posted by The Other Marys on Fri, 01 Dec 2006 09:04:00 PST |
3. the liberation of ruthlessness |
Once orphaned and discarded, broken, burned, abandoned, we learn to go without. We learn to travel light. We learn so well the liberation of ruthlessness. This I've known for a long time. ...
Posted by The Other Marys on Thu, 30 Nov 2006 11:19:00 PST |
2. in the time of no words |
My visitor bumped the cup to his lip, slowly tasting, almost chewing as though it were meat, the one thing he did not have: Tea.
There are wanderers who go for days and weeks without cont...
Posted by The Other Marys on Sun, 26 Nov 2006 02:36:00 PST |
