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Sunday Thoughts

When did my voice become too quiet to hear over the t.v.?  I’m hiding  amidst piles of dirty laundry in the living room, crouched over my laptop behind closed doors trying so hard to hear it, faintest of whispers, my voice, come back, I’m listening now.

Our marriage is where I can sleep
After setting my burdens down
After closing the door on the world
Unfailingly safe, comfortable, warm, loved . . .
I can rest my head and my heart
in us
until I’m ready to rise and face it all again.

Multi-tasking with a speed that felt like so much more, but was actually so much less . . . Worse than nothing when all was said and done.
I want my focus back, my concentration-to indulge my interest in one thing until it becomes familiar, known, maybe even loved.
To carefully, deliberately subscribe to something, to someone with discipline and care.

I wanted to dissolve into the sky
out of my senses, out of my skin
untethered, unfettered, forgotten to everything.
I get that way sometimes.

Where do I belong? I asked myself, silently in the car between what I knew then and what I know now. It is stunning how some answers come so quickly while others elude for eternity.

Curling over, again and again,
I can’t tell if the water seeks the shore or
if she’s simply a captive of the moon.

I’m still learning to end the poem in time
to prevent too much understanding, which
always seems to lead to misunderstanding.

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