Babafidrious

There is always even if unseen a perfectly reasonable reason
Now I understand how the light on dying magnolia looks like snow

In the morning equivalent of gloaming

We start with concentric circles from our heart

And if squeezed, becoming defended, we contract

And this pinched up inward drenching/trenching/quenching/squishing

Means our outsides are pulled in

This inward pinch brings issues of control, dominion

And attack because we’re smaller than we’re meant to be.

Anger, and its covert allies, quicken the pulse.

Finally, decades later, the anger slackens

Just for a day or two, enough to realize

How long it’s been there, pinching and defending.

What saved me will kill me if I don’t release

And reembody the extended spheres of being.

It unclenches.

My energy body recoheres.

I expand, and thus can release the dense clutter/tissue/emotional suppression

That I had been working so hard to clench in order to seem nice.

Unspiralwinding wholeness, loose and free.

Once again, my arms flap and bootie shimmies.

Qigong shaking. Happy dancing. Realigning.

To expand from the contraction also strangely brings more space

And also less clogging.

We set out thirty boxes for recycling in the predawn light.

The same light by which the November magnolia leaves

Appear to hold snow.

By a parallel token, twenty-one years after the death of my wife,

To the day, the anger leaves me. This glistening clearing

Purges even those old pains. To say “I am born anew”

Is babafidrious. Exactly so. Breaking through, bud bursting

And also effortless. A form of chrysalis opening. A time of

Butterflying. At last. At last. At last.

November 26, 2014