YOU ARE NOT THE STORM
A poem for your Friday
THE SPACE BETWEEN
It does not matter what you call it whether you name her a he or a she, whether you imagine her with two legs or four, branches or wings. Or even if you don’t believe. It does not matter whether you enter stained glass building or kneel with forehead to dusty knees, whether you hold hand out to receive piece of bread or drop of sky. It matters that, every day, no matter how busy or old or mad or sick or deep-in-your-bones-tired or unworthy you feel, you stop long enough to listen to dove say her early morning prayers, that you rest inside the space, this space between thought and breath, before and next— that you notice that, with no help from you, sun still blazes, body still breathes. It matters that you listen until you see that you are not the storm that throws you violently to your knees but the beloved, badass ocean who holds and holds, who forever holds you and every last, wildly inconceivable thing.
The Space Between is 1 of 99 poems in my book Staying in Love. Signed copies (as well as signed poetry prints) are available at the below link.
Another jewel, Julia, that spoke deeply to me. When I volunteered in Lesotho doing healing work with girls and women, I started each morning before dawn on waking up listening to a huge tree full of mourning doves. I tuned in to the magical sound of their singing the world awake and grounding me, ready for my work for the day meeting women on the road, each needing something different I had to be there for, impossible without preparation of the song of the doves.
After years of appreciating them with more detachment, mourning doves became an important symbol for me. This was beautiful and timely, Julia, thank you.