climbing dirt with the spirit in the sky….

You know how when you’re pissed off
and you need to vent to someone who can hear the whole of your rage,
can be with you when it shakes your voice
and pinches your face
….someone strong enough to stand in the impact zone
and stay,
who won’t leave even if your words draw blood,
one who can take it
 when pressure shakes your mind
and the jolts jostle hairline cracks in your soul
and you lash out with the sudden pain of it all
and stiff-arm the Love that draws near
to comfort and console.

And you want arms to wrap you in safe softness
but you growl and push them away
because the grief is telling you it will drown you
and you panic and claw at the Love
that isnt’ afraid to come close.

I found myself there this week,
submerged in murky perspective,
the ache to climb up onto something high
and have a fair shot at clarity
raged as I pulled offroad
and scrambled up a huge mound of dirt left long ago by builders,
now grown wild with grasses and sedge.


I stood on top and pounded on the heart
that already knew
and let me tell it anyway,
let my unspeakables bite and spit themselves out
until the hardness fell away
and my heart could take in the Love
and be held
and rocked tender again.

The wind brushed away despair
and whispered low and gentle
through swishing wildflowers gone to seed
and nuzzled my spirit
and something went petally soft inside
…peace,  I think.

This unnerving Love
that can take the whole of me
and not run or hide or back down,
even when I climb up and get in it’s face,
comfort and kisses…..not indifference
or disapproval
and what was that……pleasure?
not in my pain
but that
I came.

~like a parent glad
 to pull close a frightened child
and hold her near and safe.
and I…..I’m too tired to explain it away.
It’s just,
it’s just that….
isn’t.  grace.  frieking.  amazing?