“deep and wide, deep and wide, there’s a fountain flowing deep and wide…”
I am grateful for the gaping hole you left for me.
Thank you. (I had no idea I needed that in my backyard. Don’t worry about the flowers, they’ll be just fine.)
“It just sunk,” they said, “out of nowhere the ground just gave way.”
I suppose I saw it coming.
I am grateful for the “I don’t know.” I mean….did I ever really?
I am grateful for the not. The not there any longer feeling.
The “I don’t know how I feel but I do know how I don’t feel.”
I do NOT feel like THAT.
The knot is not there and I am thankful. I’m not surprised, just thankful.
I am grateful for the void I get to fill, or have to fill, or have, to fill.
Or must.
Or don’t.
Or maybe…won’t.
Despite my best intentions and your expectations.
Or theirs.
Anyway.
Maybe I’ll just fill it in. There. Done. No one knows the difference.
No one is the wiser. Nothing to see here!
“The-the-the-the-that’s all folks!”
Like it never even happened. (What’sthatsmell?)
I suppose on a hot day I could drag the hose and fill the muddy pond in my chest, stock it with fish, spray it with the nostalgia that never was…were…was. I forget which.
Sprays of childhood, splashing and making such a mess.
Laughter and matted muddy hair and squish between the toes and frogs and heat on my back and water in my face and laughter and matted muddy hair…
Why was she so mad at us when we did that?
Anyway.
I’m so thankful to be lost.
Yes indeed, you were correct when you called me out.
You nailed it, as they say. Called a spade a spade. Good for you, you pegged it, saw it, noted it, read it correctly, just as you were packing your bags and out the door. I. am. lost.
There you went,
And here I stand;
Overjoyed at having no idea what the hell to do next.
No map of next steps.
No plan.
No “big ideals.”
(Not anymore anyway. Look where those lead me.)
I’m grateful, and proud (don’t tell...ssshhh...that’s a sin)
Proud to be out of my mind,
Grasping for my identity,
Lost for who I am,
Dizzy with fear and doubt,
And wonder,
And wayward.
So grateful to have no idea what happens next.
I’d rather hug my fear than slice my hand on your certainty.
