Bluster

There is so much beauty in the 3 a.m. sky that is rarely seen or enjoyed by many. A truck driver on the long haul from one cityscape to the next or the late night manager on his way to his car, they might see it. But most people are bundled and resting. Another purveyor of this sky where early meets late is someone with a puppy who sometimes can't make it through the night. Tonight was just such a night. As I walked into the garage and drowsily pushed the button, I found myself momentarily confused. What time is it? It's around 3 right? The moon shone so brightly on the recently thawed grass and the pavement spotted with evaporating rain, I could have sworn it was the dawn coming hours early. As my eyes adjusted to the light, it seemed even brighter. Though unseasonably warm, there was something chilling about the scene. Low hanging clouds were hanging heavy over the horizon, rushing towards the cold white moon and it's slice of pure blue sky. A blustery wind kicked up and threw my hair back as I encouraged the puppy to get down to business. The clouds were in layers; slow moving high altitude billows towering over a lower layer pushing ahead of the storm at breakneck speeds. I felt my heart beat faster as the wind picked up more; adrenaline rushing through me. Suddenly my mind drifted to some occult television I'd watched recently. The moon was full and round. As absurd as it might seem, I felt a tingle on the back of my neck. Was there a create in the backyard about to pounce? The uneasiness was palpable even if the thoughts were fanciful. Come on, let's go in, I said. Come on. The moon had hidden behind a cloud and it was night momentarily, until it slid out again, glittering and cool. The wind was blowing and the distant sound of wind chimes rattling raised goosebumps on my arms as the foreboding clouds moved nearer and nearer. Come on, let's go... come on! The combination of opening the door, closing the garage and turning off the outside lights happened in a short burst. Though I never do, I found myself locking the door behind me. It was beautiful, the show in the sky. It was breathtaking, and would have been more so if it had been 10 p.m. and my husband was standing next to me. Seeing it alone, it felt like someone was watching me. Or, as if something was very wrong. Now I'm sitting in the room next to slumber, listening to the eerie wind chimes and the sound of the whipping wind against the siding. Still, I'm glad to have seen that full-bellied moon, as the song says, and the terrifying yet awesome display of the blustery wind and the onrushing storm clouds.

Oracle

Before I knew my power

You coaxed me to the looking glass

Stood behind me, your arms on my waist

Nuzzled my neck

Lightning sizzled across my skin

Your façade pressing into me

Sternum to spine

You stripped me of my defense

It was a trick

I fell through the looking glass

To an alternate place and time

You stole myself,

They knocked me from my tower

I didn't stop wanting you

Even as I sat in desperation

But I found it

It was within

I reclaimed what you stole, myself

I reclaimed you

Still tall with dusty gray hair

But young and impetuous

I drew you to me to show you

what I had become

And we embraced through time

We bathed in ice and snow

I tasted your frozen breath

Our bodies tingling with cold

We danced in fire and stars

burned in the heat of suns

You called me the oracle

An avatar

A Still Heart

I went to sleep that night with no thoughts of you in my conscious mind. It had been more than a season since I'd seen you in person and a lifetime since I'd felt you. I tumbled into the dreamscape like Alice down the rabbit hole, and hardly caught my bearings before I saw the white, sterile hallway. It led down a corridor and to another room that looked more like a room where a serial killer kept his victims than a hospital room. Your lifeless body was on the table and an inept team was trying desperately to revive you. The tools looked archaic and the walls were dripping gray and black brick and it was all wrong. Something was so very wrong as they cracked your chest and the blood ran side to side. Then, all I could see was the sinew and bone rent from side to side, pushed back and then the still organ. Everyone in the room turned to me as if they expected me to be there, as if it was my turn to try - as if I had been called in to revive you.

Touching you inside was a religious experience, horrific and deeply real. Even as the seconds rushed by and I massaged your quiet heart with my naked hands, I could smell the rusty smell of blood, taste the tang of its mist and feel the warmth of your recently stilled flesh. My heart was willing yours, coaxing it... "beat, please beat, pump, beat, thump," faster and faster it sang out, begging yours to join it. My eyes were salty my hand was shaking from the pressure of walking a delicate line between not crushing your heart and pumping hard enough to make it start.

Your eyes were closed and your angelic face was perfectly still and silent. But, my fingers, urgently probing for any sign of motion, felt something - a skip. I knew you would come back if I asked you just the way you wanted to be asked. I felt a slight pulsing beneath the pads of my fingers and my heart leapt, but I never saw your eyes open. Instead, mine opened to the blaring siren of my cell phone alarm. I crawled out of bed and stood in the shower, shivering. I nearly picked up the phone to hear your voice, but realized that it made no sense. We were no more connected than we were in the moments before I drifted to sleep with only thoughts of another in my mind. I hope all is well with you.

What can you do...

When you see the train headed for the end of the tracks and the brakes are out. Not a whole lot I expect. You can run around the train trying to stop it, turn it around, change its course some or just slow down, but if the train is full steam ahead, you're going off the edge anyway. Which wouldn't sound so bad if this was a toy train, but it's a ten ton steel locomotive ready to plunge into the abyss and smash into pieces. You might feel a little better being the one that runs around trying to save everyone on board, but it's a train wreck - there's nothing to be done. Why not sit next to the other person on the train and watch it hit the rocks? Then you can sing the old Neil Diamond song "Love on the rocks, ain't no surprise." And you can lift your broken body off the ground and keep moving. But you can't be too angry. You, after all, were the one who decided to get on the train.