I've been thinking of some secret of the universe that I could let spill into your mind from mine or some wonder that might have your heart beat in tempo with mine--just for a second or two. There were so many things that seemed beautiful, strange, intriguing and maybe inspiring but they all seemed too forced. They were difficult and constructed beauty which is less, I think, than something just stumbled upon.
I've realized, finally, that each time I step out of this fog, I have to re-enter my own orbit and that I'm a little loopy until I do. I find it difficult, for some reason, to just fall back into myself. I hold on too tightly to what is definite and lose the part of me that dreams--but only for a while. With each day, I feel so much more and the magic that I want and that I see and that I try to press urgently into everyone's palms...
it comes back. I will have magic, soon, for you.
I'll be amazed and want you to be too.
I'll want to wonder like Pablo Neruda about the universe and ache for the answers.
I'll want them to be so full of words and images that they create more questions and I want to be able to just wonder forever--
to be constantly amazed and pushed to see, hear and feel more. I'll want each thing to be as tiny and grand as that single drop of glory in a honeysuckle.
There are so many thoughts and wants to catch up on, dearest, because there was such a lull in my being. It's so strange to feel like a stranger as you watch your life just passing by minute to hour to day to week...
and then, you tiptoe back into your self so you can run from what you were.
I tiptoe back into myself so I can run from what I was
And now--it's time for the world to unfold again.
Angel, the email began,
"I tiptoe back into myself so I can run from what I was"
(those are your words, by the way) I am sending them back to you for no
reason other than I hope they might become gravel in your shoes.
(they did and this is for you)