Thursday, June 21, 2012

The Day After Summer Solstice 2012

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
     It is one day past the Summer Solstice and I have been reflecting.  Yesterday, Summer Solstice,  there were two roses in full bloom: one at the back of my house beside your grave site and one right outside my window in the front of the house.  This one is on the rose bush that I've identified with you during that first year in our move here.  Remember, the one that was so beautiful and was such an anchor of beauty for me as I traversed that first year without you!  She is dying, bugs are eating her no matter how much I try to tend her, she is dying I think. But/And yesterday there was one beautiful full blooming rose.  From you?  The other one there by your grave site is from a bush, also dying, that work acquaintances gifted me after you were killed.  Again, was this other beautiful fully bloomed rose from you? 
     Today I've had a quiet morning to myself.  Facing me most often when I get quiet is the grief, still the grief, forever the grief.  I sat down and leaned into it listening for what it had to bring me this time.   Why?  Why did all of this have to happen two years ago?  and one year ago?  Why all the loss?  Why cannot I be in full bloom and still have my beloved companions/Guardians in my life? Why the disconnect?  Why the letting go of such beloved Beings?  Why the cost?  I just don't understand and inside I feel crazy trying to face it and explain the inexplicable.  I don't believe in cosmic exchanges, that is the sacrificial giving up of one thing to gain another.  I don't think the Divine/Life Force works that way.  So, I don't know how to make meaning of this, to try to settle this unsteadiness about it all.  Most of the time nowadays I just keep moving, facing the next thing knowing that this cradle of ruins and grief also live inside these walls with me.  And there are times like today that I am called back to the cradle to cry and ask why, ask for answers and insights to explain to myself and others and to just sit with the incongruities, the urgent incongruities.
     Thank you for the roses, Phoenix.  I know they are from you. I've been kissed by a rose from the grave.  Again.  Two times this time.  I wish that it made everything better.  It doesn't.  But it does make me weep in gratitude for you on the WEb with me and hope that there is something deeply being rewoven and repaired that I will get to see/experience soon.
My love to you always,
Me