often it is stunning. with light and an almost ashamed glow. a fine sauvignon blanc on a sterling moroccan tray.

often it feels safe. worlds merge, easily, and it is as if it has always been effortless. comfortable. even graceful.

faith is rooted in these times–when wands are at the ready. when the breath seems to go right through.
when life is cleopatra and champagne, dress-up and tree-swings.

i think i capture the stunning and the flow to remind myself that i can find it again. i need to remember that the sulfur water runs deep and that there is, in fact, a limitless supply.

because i am not always sure.
because i don’t always believe.
because, sometimes, it is not beautiful and connected.

sometimes it is doubtful and dark. curled up tight and made to look relaxed.
i do this not to fool you, but to fool myself.
sometimes i need to see what still might be there–throw a boomerang to god.
and so, i compose divinity and order.
i make it pretty.

and, sometimes,
most of the time,
it helps.

While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies, I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth. ~Neruda