It is 4am in Philadelphia, and in India it is 2pm. My whole body is confused. I woke up in a soft bed with Mike’s arms wrapped tightly around me, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. It was kind of a long moment, I turned to Mike and stroked his face, focusing my eyes and then I felt it..I am home.
I would love to be able to write about this experience, but I even had a hard time talking about it last night. So much has happened in the last 9 weeks. Soon I’ll have something to say……maybe.
I woke with this poem rolling around in my consciousness. As I sit here and read it in its entirety there are just too many sections that are bringing me meaning, I’ll just share a particularly potent one and maybe later more.
As on the shore of the ocean
To remain sea and not to cede
The power of motion!
Fated to flow back
To be reduced, to be restored,
To be transformed into immutable number.
As idea to the body returns,
As thought from the point falls
Where its secret cause,
Having dared and lifted it,
It cannot but return
To the pure and simple presence,
To all things less itself,
Even though not itself,
Itself never for long