Time is fleeting and insecure and unpredictable and cannot be depended upon.
For anything.
I sit. I work. I drive my car through a snowy, “ice-packed” stretch of highway called the Glorieta Pass.
The phone call drops. The radio looses reception. For about ten minutes time and space fall in on
themselves.
I work feverishly to not take things personally.
She asks, “Is that true, can you know for certain that it’s true?”
The shadows appear for reminder, forgiveness and release.
Intimacy with myself allows for intimacy with my beloved.
Shining the light on fear.
Fear of my insecurities or, fear of my greatness/power/strength.
Finding mercy and divinity in this heart.
Where else is there to go?
In.
To go out.
