I was beside myself
So I called Missa Him outside for a bath
She was trusting in the cold long light
And the shafts came low across the yard like heralds with shinning shields
Afterward, I sat beneath a tree and cried
I cried as Missa Him looked into my face
But I was not crying for you
I was crying for myself
That time I came out of the stones and river, like a beaver from the dam upstream
And I lay beside you, there on the bank, and we listened to the river’s glittering song
I remembered all of that
And I was crying because I had failed
I had failed you like the sun
Like the moon and the sea
Like the black earth beneath your feet
All of us failing to overcome your despair
All of us failing to save that part of you where love resides
And I wept near the tree, shed tears for myself, waiting for the night to enter my heart once again
Very touching , lovely and yet, filled with sweet sadness .
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Sounds like you had one of those revelatory moments … we do all fail the ones we love including the black earth beneath our feet. Beautifully written. Love, jan
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It’s infinitely preferable to me to be failed by someone else than for me to be the one failing them.
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One is expected, the other is a wound that never stops bleeding.
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yes
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