Stepping into subliminal space
I no longer fathom futures
made up of heaven and days
too vast to number
too slim to calculate
I think of you and wonder
about liminal space
and are angels meant to date?
No questions were ever answered
satisfactorily enough
even though I asked
often enough
and now
I can’t even remember why.
Didn’t I?
““““““““
P.S. This little ditty is one of Joaquin’s favorite songs;
“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily…Life is but a dream.”
So profound.
P.S.S. I’ve not found words enough to link together and make sentences for the past several weeks. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m writing in my head most the time but not in a way that’s felt cohesive or inspirational.
This second year of grief is different and taking root, adding new layers of understanding and empathy to my aging skin.
I feel the anguish in Ukraine and other places.
Being sensitive has purpose, no doubt, but sometimes the ground under our feet… is what sustains.
This is a time for birthing from the inside out and maybe you feel it too.
A time for transformation, forgiveness, and for letting go.
May our breaths be drawn from liminal space and always with grace…
remembering what we do and say effects the whole.
With love and gratitude,
Marylou
“whisper”
All paths are inter-connected, even though it doesn’t seem so or make sense from your three-dimensional observational level.
People and situations that are physically hundreds or even thousands of miles away, impact your life.
As you do theirs.
And so we go…

This is where I am:
> There are days that seem like > Solidness falling away beneath > My soul as I navigate my life > There are days when I know > I have the wrong feet for > The daily life I trek…and > Then I find a firm place to > Stand for just a little while.
>
Such beautiful words, Carol…thank you. Finding firmness in the standing… and love…