I sleep through the storms, the alarms, the sirens. I can’t seem to leave the night behind.
Mornings do not touch me. The grey dawn moves around my body, travels somewhere else, into other rooms, other lives.
I am not lost, but I have put myself on hold. For the time being I follow the thread that has entangled me, in parallel to where the rest of the world awaits.
Darkness knocks at every door. The wind shivers my bones. I am bombarded. Yet I stand resolute at the stilled center, suspended, withdrawn.
I sojourn. I am filled to overflowing with abiding.
When I return, winter will have receded into a different story, one already told. A new once upon a time will erase the cold, satisfy my hunger for warmth, birdsong, greenery, light.
Then I can open my eyes.
Then I can breathe.
Merril at dVerse has provided these words from Adrienne Rich for this week’s prosery: I am bombarded yet I stand.