Altar

I didn’t intend to build an altar. I don’t worship. But I knew what had to stand in place of that guitar. And I know honouring now, like I did not before. Like a parent, I guide and narrate what is left of me – what grows – now that there is no body with which to commune.

Show me the money

And to those with their nose in their wallets, I raise my cup high. That kind of discontent is not to be held, nor will it be caught by me. The only blessing to which I assign value is this peace, this beautiful peace that tells me that nothing was lost. All is, as it should be.

Grace

Now, judgement and want are curiously similar. I have something in my hand – something received – and I might witness how it changes me. I remain, both filter and vision.

Judge, Jury and Joy

And its the hearing that has allowed judgement to be revolutionary. It’s only ok, because it was not ok. I watched the jury box fill up, as I was thinking about joy.

Tips

I want it all and hold what moves of its own accord as my hand finds the balance of play.

Do you? Are you?

Do you move in a new way that allows for pause and pace so that when you look back you will smile with tears in your eyes at your own strength and bravery, in what you have released . . . in what you have handed to others . . . and what has come back to you, changed by its path?