It was a special weekend – my birthday celebration amongst other things with the coming together of friends and family, the people who inhabit that well-worn phrase, “loved ones.”
Something floated above everything, a phrase I have used before, my excitement in the present tense. Thank you to everyone who gave me that most precious of gifts when hopes and desires burst open for real.
Something has lifted.
Call it a mood,
something in the brain,
an illness passing.
That empty space called future,
no longer quite so blank.
Some hints here now of continuance,
revelation, initiation.
The aching thud of history
sounds now of more than pain;
more now than just a warning,
a healed wound, a threat.
All is one, united, strong
only significant now;
those hopes and memories,
immaterial, whimsical, confusing.
Call it a mood
this bud burst,
this excitement in the present tense.
It is Butterfly awaiting Pinkerton
but this time a hope fulfilled.
She is there, under the eternal blossom,
no victim to our eyes.
He too, has found his love,
freed from his past, his destiny.
Call it a mood,
a recovery, a mystery even.
Call it what you like,
but live it. Live it now.