Blood

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Nine Months

I saw moon-rays tonight. The light pressed through the clouds, which seemed the silhouette of wings. I stood in the minutes disguised as hours, unmoving and tear-stained. My lips called out the only name I felt might hear me in the dark in the middle of the country road. I called out the name "Daddy". I whimpered the name over and over. "Daddy, show me why." I knew his voice once upon a time, so I tried to listen for it. I stood in the street, no headlights came to interrupt the soapy glow. On the flat open surface I felt closer to the moon, I felt that my questions were more likely to be answered there. The moon has seen my mistakes, the moon has pierced my heart, the moon has curled my smiles. The moon has been many faces to me, tonight, Frost, on the day that you would have been 9 months old, the moon was my Father again. I was looking for his protection, his guidance. I was nailed to the blacktop, I would not move until something was given to me in return for my questions. Not an answer, just something that wasn't only a trick of the eye. I asked where do you go? why don't any of my dead people get to show me something of themselves? why don't I get a visit? why does this happen? and what have you become? Nothing. I stood longer, looking to the constant tumble of lightning opposite the moon. There were electricities all around me. I tried to feel them to become more aware. To tune into the things I thought I had been missing. Nothing but pretty cloud shadows and pops of dull reddish light. I had to go at that moment. I walked back toward the house, toward the unnatural light. The house behind me, not my own, in which we believe we have glimpsed the spirit of a man walking a burdensome path. A ghost, more than three people have caught striding out of the corner of their eye. I wondered then, when I thought of the ghost man, if maybe you had been caught up in his path, maybe he grabbed you out of spite, perhaps out of duty. Did our little spot in the world have a Divine purpose? At that, a coyote made its presence known, its howl was deep and soothing not haunting. I was thankful, I was relieved, all of my tears had gotten me somewhere. I had been heard! I had my answer. And what I took it to be was that we go back to the Earth. We belong to its energy, no matter our plans. This is where I find you. In the trees where the coyote hides. In the coyote's throat, longing to escape. In the moonshine that drives the coyote's frenzy. And in my tears that take their salt from the sea. You move in the tides and the pull of the moon, you are all around me. You are the connection to the breath of whom some call God. Through you I will listen, through myself I will hear. You are my gift. You are my place in the world.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

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