Season of loss

Last month we lost a young member of our family of close friends. He was only thirty years old. Pneumonia took him suddenly. Sage, we will miss you.

DARKNESS FALLS EARLY

How do we remember joy
When hurt is deep?

So deep it lives with the leviathans.
With the scattered remains of ships.

The keening of whales
In the snores of our houseguest
Keeps me awake. I cannot dream.

Waiting in the line
At the supermarket,
It goes through my mind
This is the price we pay for loving.

Would we still give our hearts
If we had to pay in advance?
The first hour of pain
Would change our minds.
But we love by instinct
We can’t seem to help it.
There is no answer.

I believe in the Creator of rainbows, of waterfalls
I believe in the Creator of small birds and starlight.
In the Creator of springs and streams
Of quick-moving rivers
Of wind in the treetops
Of mud
Of green hillsides
Of slow black cows,
Their sides swaying, minding the path.

I hold fast to these things,
This fragile gospel
As the road bends sharp before me.

copyright Cathy Larson Sky 12/12/2009

Friday morning was one where I just couldn’t see why I should get out of bed. Hey, I know my anxiety is not unique. So many Americans are worried about money, about losing their children to an ambiguous foreign campaign, about getting sick without insurance to cover them. All of us are carrying burdens as the holiday season approaches. It will not be a typical Christmas. What will it be? In times like these, we must live day to day, without having answers. A bright white light shone through the slats of the Venetian blinds in my room. Snow, it advertised. Snow had fallen during the night. I shambled into the living room to find that magic had touched the holly bushes in our back yard. The holly berries are abundant this year. Now the sliding doors framed a scene of pure enchantment just within my reach. I pulled on my boots and waded out in the snow to take this snap. I just wanted to share the beauty. Let your hearts be light.