on the stoop. Schenectady
it’s raining ever so gently
the streetlight grants a brief view of the vicinity
the arena is quiet but for the pattering of raindrops and tints of background buzzing
in this bubble I am free
at this moment I can breathe
I find the desire to judge nothing
I simply accept all that has been
and all there is to be.
I find gratitude in realizing
forgiving myself allows me to forgive others
forgiving others allows them to forgive themselves
forgiving themselves allows them to forgive me
it is a never-ending unfurling tapestry
or might I say scroll rather, as I picture it
learning how to embrace the idea that who I am now is allowed
to look at who I was at any point in “then”
and see her for her highest intention
we are aligned
we are not so different, she and I
yet so many different people we have been since each breath we reflect upon
and so many different people's loves and lives have we touched sense…
sense.
sensational - to think, as the trumpets are greased in the distance.
the further I step into considering this truth
the quieter the hums and the louder the symphonies.
yet externally nothing has changed but a passing car in the night.
all is well. all will be well. so it is, so mote it be. amen. 1202a 1203a
-nb