soul vignettes

toes orange tree skyUnder the orange tree … globes … worlds unknown in sweet juicy center …. thorns to keep distractions at bay … open sky to inspire and hold all possibility … upside down … swim in the calm without wave or wake … bare foot upon smooth flow of bark … fruit doesn’t fall on its own … must reach … but not far and the reward is within my grasp.

A house without memory is my childhood … its wallpaper is a patchwork of photos I view into someone else’s life … no emotion swells … no connection dwells in those scattered prints … the past disappears … leaving me settled peacefully in the present moment … writing bits of flotsam to attach to images … re-vision.

Sitting in circle among women who speak … swallowing my words … unable to talk because within my pauses someone else has already spoken … my words become obsolete … rejoicing in their comments, listening … resonating with their measure … yet my voice is out of tempo … at home once more, I write.

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