My Mom gave me a love of reading; my
Dad my love of walking.
REMEMBERING
You do not
need
to talk
only to people
who are
living.
You can talk
with the
dead. Often
they
respond before
you seek comfort,
advice.
This, no
scarier
than a
potted geranium
or the cat
self-absorbed
in snoring,
marks time
by parcels
of the empty --
a
manifestation
summoning
form,
familiar
and voices,
loved.
loved.
What They Give Us
ReplyDeleteStories, lost, retrieved, recovered, re-worked
Memory as fulcrum
The Making of ratio, alliances of meaning
Core of Heat, language for that, tribe and heritage
Tents with fires burning in them