Sunday, November 13, 2016

Super Moon

It was just after six, but just after six means it's pitch black outside. I put dinner in the oven, set the timer for 45 minutes, and put the apartment in Dr. BB's hands to make sure it didn't burn down.

It feels like we're on the precipice.  The sun will rise, the moon will glow, but in the timelines of celestial bodies, humans are naught but a blink.
My yoga mantra was "I believe." I believe it will be okay. No, that's not right. I believe in kindness and love. No, that's wrong, too. I believe I have done enough. Obviously wrong. I believe in the absurdity of it all.  Closer. I believe in the fickle winds of fate.  I don't think that's the sort of mantra the instructor has in mind. I believe I have failed them. No, push the negative thoughts aside.

I believe that the sun will rise and the moon will glow.

And that will have to be enough for right now.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous11/15/2016

    This puts words to the churn of fear and hope and disenchantment and sadness and determination I've been feeling. Very nicely said.


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