Pulling the pin is the easy part.
Ruling the skin & a breezy spark
Then mark up boundaries, a working chart
Carving out sailboats (our open hearts)
Graphing success is a loosened cart
Moving in place fills a poison dart
Breathing of space wakes a hardened heart
Loving your face grows our best head start
Standing, running- perfectly still
Moving, strumming- Heart & will
Scheming from thieving
Those lifetimes past
Estrella had stepped with her bare foot into the wet. The fresh blacktop had baked all day in the heat, and was still slightly warm in the summer rain despite the dark hour.
Now her own tears had quite bored her from the late afternoon onward, but that didn't stop them from forcing their way out, leaking sporadically in clumsy gobs between one task and another. Her whole household was asleep. The whole neighborhood was long past quiet. She could be with her own self now, truly, and she breathed the night. It quickened her step to a run, long hair streaming behind, stuck to her bare arms also, drops from the light rain riding her curls. She slowed now, a light laugh adorning her mouth and nose. Her heart had returned to her, and they were again on friendly terms. Her pale skirt, full at the bottom, had taken on water. Ah, well.
She had thought, initially, to bring the baby along on her adventure, to protect her from actively seeking her own damage. Ridiculous, of course, as little Eliza should be protected from any humans seeking to do harm this late. Or early. The hour, Estrella. The hour.
Eliza lay snugly in her crib, snoring lightly, dreaming maybe, and in G*d's arms. Estrella wondered if she was in any G*d's arms at all at the moment, and a small dry laugh, but she knew she felt good. So there was G*d in it somewhere, must be. Felt less like a partnership, more like sibling rivalry. But was G*d with her? Most definitely. Relief. Night. Walking. She delighted in her stride, feeling her muscles working, an orchestra to carry her body where she chose. Why was being alive so much easier at night? She wondered suddenly how far away she was, two miles? More? Maybe not so wise in bare feet to keep going. All right. She found a large puddle, shallow, clean. She swiped her right foot through the tepid water lengthwise. She had wanted that feeling, which was as expected, and enjoyed the visual effects that pools of water always afford.
In her mind, she began to turn home (with regret), and then she turned her body in the same direction. A bit of fear crept up. Well, that was a surprise. She quickened her pace a bit, wondering why she hadn't borrowed someone's dog for the little sojourn. Ah yes. Because at the start of it, her & her heart had lost touch. Thus, there was no fear of harm due to no awareness of her own value. Less painful that way to be sure. Less painful without love, yet the walking death is it's own brand of hell, and the soul will fight to break it. "Thank G*D!" She shouted in the general direction of the sky. "Thank Youuuuuuu..."
Had that bad dream again, at the Mission, oh no not this one again knew it like the back of my hand. First time I remember it awake. The one where the energy came to choke in a literary way, big big trouble in part our own making (?). No one could outrun it. No one could get past the gate, falling to the ground with sick, or far worse, dragged UP the closest wall. I had predicted it but not quickly enough. I was the usual litmus test, and also responsible for them. A wife like person. A rebbitzin like person. I don't know if we were Christian, but we were group leaders. I was unofficial. I don't think I was your wife, or not yet. All respectable, don't get me wrong, no problem with THAT. Oh you I think were the preacher, so I guess we may have been Christian.. When I say you, I don't know who you are now, today in this life. I just don't. But this bud may be for you, be careful. I was surprised by the way I knew this dream, as if I'd dreamed it a thousand times. I was very surprised by its contents, the strength of them. What on earth was it, what causes that? Did we merely awaken it? Or, as it felt, did we do something to actually cause it & what the hell could that have been? Were we bad & selfish people, or people who meant well but majorly screwed up? What on earth could we have done? You, reader - connected of my soul- does it seem familiar to you or no? There was a medium-tall tower, quite usual for the time & place. We were not natives. Whole group on a mission. No one died in this event, we persevered, I don't know how. Beyond that a have no information. I'm hoping imagery was metaphoric, but I suspect not.