Saturday, November 09, 2013

beginning in the waking

I don't know how to begin here. The words feel caught in my throat; they are stains on my fingers that won't seem to wash off.  I have been unearthing the past by opening this blog up again. What I have discovered is that I am picking up where I left off.  This cigar box full of my dreams, which I buried five years ago, are waking up inside me. Opening the lid I see familiar images that stir within myself a spark of hope. I breathe in the scent of old paint and devotional candles. This is where my true self has been slumbering in hazy hibernation all this time.

                            awaking to the glow February 2007

She is still awaking, sleep still in her vision. Clinging to anything soft and comforting, an old handmade blanket, a threadbare teddy bear with stuffing coming out of its paws, a thin pillow smelling of lavender and night sweat. She is trying to go back to sleep afraid that fear will stun her once again.  So my waking is slow. I am watching these dear dreams float into my heart once again on rays of sunlight between the drapes. I am stretching out of bed like my canine friends, shifting this soul that has been in deep well, remembering how to believe anew.

Yes, my voice is still trembling.

So I will begin here at a whisper.

I will begin right here.

Waking up late.


Julie said...

I hear your whispers and see your looking forward to seeing your words here <3

Cynthia Lee said...

I am here. standing witness to the waking up. and the waking up some more. sending you love and grace and peaceful stretching.

Jess said...

Thank you Julie & Cynthia for your support.

Beth Morey said...

I love your voice, trembling and all.