Prompt: I choose today to write about...
love...
lost in folds of the very fabric it was wrapped carefully in. Finding now that the wrapping was made with ancient memories in such delicate cloth.
Love woven decades ago.
A deep caring that was expected to grow and flourish with time, yet as it is exposed again for the first time in years, one finds that foundation covered in a striped tent which hides the rotting pillars eaten by termites that roosted in part of this house of heart years ago.
Crumbling and folding into itself I sit and stare with disbelief at what has become of my hearts retirement. The only thing to do now is to burn it all. The termites aren't dieing and the side that is trying so desperately to hold on has grown weak with the strain.
What now?
What happens if everything is burned down? How long must I wait to rebuild on this tender and tormented soil? If all the material has gone bad must I find a new way? Or should I set up a retreat built for one? A camping spot with only room and supplies for the Self soul. Allow the occasional visitor but possibly never build again?
And what about the garden? Is the ash enough to fertilize for the future? It might crawl with insects for years. So lost is this weary traveler who thought she knew her destination. So distant does the relief seem to be. She must plant carefully and tend to her own...for now.
There is something so plaintive here, in your writing voice. I love how true it sounds. Beautiful.
Posted by: Julie Jordan Scott | 09/24/2010 at 06:50 AM