
A keeper on a hill, came upon a dove.
Swift to cage, he did.
Swift to trust, she did.
(N)everlasting love.
Moments of fear, instilled in her posthaste.
soon she forgot, not.
Ram shackled to an idea of him, prompted her to build the nest.
Tree limbs for framework; olive branch for compromise.
His apprehension drenched in disapproval,
moved like slow-drip morphine through her veins.
His disenchantment shown by deafening speech,
poisoned the well.
Their glass house shattered.
He thought his heat couldn't burst?
That wide-eyed boy.
Oh, how obscure sorrow is so absolute
to her.
She thought it'd be easier, she thought it'd be evident. She ventured to find he was kind-natured, she stumbled into his improvidence. She's covered now... Lathered in difficult love. Enveloped by unrecognizable skin. Scorned by swell headedness, scorched by draped dissonance.
Once, some time ago, she heard a diddly of a tune; "the cold is like a Wendigo, full of fiction like a blood moon"... Words never felt so true, so blue. With chilled bones, yet blood warm, she wrapped him in hopeful spirits; only to be devoured at the mouth of his, Wendigo.
Her heart abandoned... inevitably forsaken, by her.
Black tie, silk gown... dressed in pleasantries to hide the hoax. She endured the search for her second heart, he appealed for one less fragile... only to find carbon-copied fragments of what he broke. A heart grown callous to unfavorable care... She deigned.
How sinful was she - for him yet, solemnly, her.
Leash to collar -- moth to flame -- needle to vein. She to him & he to her.
His practice with honesty, consistently cowardice. Her belief of his duplicity, credulously convinced. Open season on her heart. No shield could protect her from the bitter bullets. No white flag waved could brighten up the darkness in his eyes. She fell into a trench of dark looms of helicoptering clouds filled with brain-boggling fog. Next thing she knows, she doesn't.
The only thing she can feel, divergence from her.
I'm different now.
It has taken me quite some time to arrive at this locus. To speak of you, write of you, process you. You lingered, painfully. I don't want this to be arduous, I want to conclude. I want to close the cage door that I crawled out of.
There is no sense in airing out your dirty laundry - that doesn't help either one of us. You know what you did -- whether you see it as right or wrong, I don't know. I don't care, I stopped long before we did. My only hope, wish, prayer is that you never do it again. That you have learned, that you had your epiphany.
I guess if I'm being frank, I pray for her.
I pray for her mind, that it remains steadfast in the Lord, not you. That she has clarity of God's will upon her life. That she sees you for who God has called you to be -- and that you are actually that man, not the boy I endured. That she is the woman that balances your contrast. Ultimately, I pray for healing -- you didn't have an idyllic past or an honest nature.
I have prayed for you more times than there are needles on an age-old pine. My journal is filled with tear stains of your name I could not wear and your pain I tried to bear.
Some grievances aren't meant to grasp.
I am firm in this, resolute; I should feel a myriad of ways about you -- trust me, I did. I've inked up multiple drafts, angry pages marked with countless queries & feisty feats. But I'm choosing peace, I have to.
Zero partialities on my behalf -- justly, the truth, as is.
You were the sawtoothed "dagger in my heart" (your words, not mine) and the absolute leadened love of my life. You filled the in-betweens with maddening morsels & twisted takes. You ground, brewed & poured me out. But, I have lamented. I trudged through a dark valley for years for you... I left a part of me there... I let go of that part of me there.
I used to fear what was behind me, and how to go forth.
And now, it's sparkly to think that I can hike the mountain without you. I am safe now.
I am unafraid now.
Demons can hover and resentment can revolve like a door -- But I chose to pick myself up & get off the floor.
I uncovered my eyes & asked myself where is my reflection? It certainly isn't in you, and it shouldn't be.
I don't understand how but, I am new now.
I think you found a solace in my shadow as you fastened the rope around my neck.
I've asked for an untuned truth and I got my undone answer.
I've had my fill, more than the Lion's share.
I have seen you.
I forgive you.
I'm not sure I walked away with grace… I faltered my way to the door and had to vacate. You weren't home anymore.
I don't know if back to my roots is where I go but, clinging to the wood of the Cross seems like the right stream to row.
I’m free, I can move now — I’m not afraid to admit I was frozen like a sculpture. My heart was paralyzed, laid on ice.
I knew Someone was holding it for me, carrying me through when I couldn’t speak, couldn’t go, when I just could not.
I know He is holding yours too.
I pray for it, for you. That hasn't changed, though I have.
It’s difficult not to get your human all over it, all over your life. I know you did, I did too.
That’s our blistered burden but our boldest break. As we inch closer to God, our humanity becomes visceral, samely, viable.
Redemption? Our only option.
That’s our Higher Hope.
The lone lingering lick of lingua I have for you is...be better, I will too.
Be tender, I will too.
Be less so you can be more, I will too.
Have you ever seen wildflowers on a hillside? Some are so bright & bountiful; others are colorful yet craven.
I've noticed that the ones that grow together from one stem, providing support as they lean their heads against one another, end up robust. They reflect such resilience, such richness. They are the bright & bountiful. The ones that stand alone, on their own, lie droopy and hanging on by a thread, or I guess looking up close, a weak lone stem. They are the colorful but craven. From a distance, which ones stand out amongst the rest?
The bright. The bountiful.
So be bright, I will too.
Be bountiful, I will too.
Forgive, I will too.
An east coast sunset won't look the same. But, I have the west coast to remedy that.
The other day, I was in a local vintage shop and came across a green blouse, my favorite color.. Remember when you told me you hated green, that it wasn't my color and that I should get rid of all my green wardrobe? I looked away drifting to that moment, that time I felt so controlled, I actually stopped wearing anything in that palette.
I looked back and gazed at the top once more with a smirk. Not even caring what digits were on that price tag, we were going to walk out of that shop together.
So, buy the green or don't.
I already did, & gave it back to her. 💚
- jlou