6 07 2010

Mourning the passing of a barn swallow in the morning

Morning sounds of birds, squirrels, dripping water from the rains the night before

Mourning broken relationships and missed chances

This morning not knowing if the swelling inside is gratitude or sadness, but either way, tears would be easy

Mourning takes place each time I convince myself that I’m not the best choice, there’s someone else better for you out there, I’m temporary, and you prove me right

You – any of you, in any way

Each morning it starts all over again and the choices are fresh and the sounds are new but strikingly similar to yesterday’s morning and we all need food and love and raison d’etre just like every other morning and we either follow through on wanting today to be a bit better than yesterday or a bit different or just the same or we mourn what it wasn’t

I don’t want to mourn being passed over anymore and I don’t accept that there is someone better for you.  I don’t want that excuse anymore to hide. I want you to take me in, hold tight and scream if necessary.  Scream for me, scream it into me: “You are what I want!”

And I put my keys down and stay and we kiss and we start the morning only mourning the barn swallow

(From Miriam Hall’s Contemplative Writing Retreat on Linda’s Farm.  Written in a big, beautiful barn, Jun 2010)



One response

7 07 2010

Good to read this again.

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