I came here to make a correction, but in hindsight I realize that it is not necessary. Apparently, sometimes I have foresight. Or something. On October 23, 2012, I wrote this about you:
"I find comfort in small dependabilities & gifts-in-hand... The cat will crap on the bathroom floor every night. In the morning I will curse him & amid my irritation, remember my love for him. An old gift-in-hand."I didn't think I had the audacity or forethought to say it, but in rereading, I guess I did:
"...For now I can find comfort in knowing that things will go on until they don't & I will remain thankful for my precious gifts-in-hand. You know who you are."
"...until they don't..."
Until you don't.
Sure wish I could unravel the Web & make a correction in your Fate.
I miss you.
Reflection.
In the night, the voice of the cat-you-left-behind is caterwauling.
Not even the compassion of opiates will let me sleep through this.
I am glad I danced with you that final evening.
Rubbing heads,
I think my bones knew things my heart & mind could not handle.
We have traveled long & far together.
You are in my bones.
The nature of Nature: no one is special,
But for whatever it is worth, you are to me.
Some events in life will bring us to our knees.
It is during times like this that I find no comfort --
No comfort in the spirits,
or from the gods,
or in other beings.
I find my comfort in a humble & ambivalent return
to the dark folds of His musky Abyss,
where I can hear the silent hoof-beat heartbeat of the starry Void
& feel the equanimity of the Nothing that is Everything.
Devotion.
I cannot avoid vacuuming indefinitely,
nor can I indulge in protracted, crippling heartache,
but
I can allow your scent to linger along the edges of the upholstery,
I can leave your blanket by the window for you,
I can carry your soft tufts close to the wreckage of my heart,
I can walk with you in my bones
& I can love you, forever.
I will brace myself to receive your ashen remains
& I will tell them,
as I told your unmoving, no longer serviceable form,
I love you. Forever.
We will travel long & far together.
You are in my bones.
& feel the equanimity of the Nothing that is Everything.
Devotion.
I cannot avoid vacuuming indefinitely,
nor can I indulge in protracted, crippling heartache,
but
I can allow your scent to linger along the edges of the upholstery,
I can leave your blanket by the window for you,
I can carry your soft tufts close to the wreckage of my heart,
I can walk with you in my bones
& I can love you, forever.
I will brace myself to receive your ashen remains
& I will tell them,
as I told your unmoving, no longer serviceable form,
I love you. Forever.
We will travel long & far together.
You are in my bones.
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| I love you. Forever, April 21, 2001 - January 30, 2013. |
