I knew there was no god
When the mother rabbit came back later, looking,
After the crows swooped in and took her hidden babies.
Still, it comforts to believe in something, to connect.
There is heart, there is light,
There is nature, lovely and mean.
Maybe we aren’t preordained beings
or soap opera stars watched by gods.
Maybe we are just living,
Praying to our own creations,
Helps me breathe sparks of
Divinity, miracles, hope.
Keeps me going when the crows are closing in.
It was sad to watch; your
Wild life ether
There on the pavement’s edge.
Eight points knocked off
Clean; soft fur like my dog.
A moment like that
Is your life rushing on
In webs of thought
The slushy past
And what if futures?
Be on the road; awake
As roads are shared
Who do not see
Our armored rush.
Did you know life had value?
Yours and mine.
And also those who
Run and dream on
© Angela Bigler 2013
photo credit: jerbec via photopin cc
On February 29, 2000, my mom leaped between worlds to a new place where I could not see. I drowned without warning, unable to swim as my roots were now tangled around me. To return to land, I took my own leap through cold time, dark embers, and hologram waves of the psyche. I since came around to myself, but recast. Death must be something like that, a luminous transformation where the soul is returned to the source but now changed.
The thing about the Leap Day loss is I have more comings than goings. Each August, we dine on her favorites, sweet corn on the cob and ripe peaches. All of us feel the heat and the storms. The lightning is common and deep. The roots of the willow rise up to meet the lily, hydrangea and lilac. We are dressed up and singing like heaven or love when just born and celestial. Your heart, that is summer, her birthday. The day she arrived in this world.
When Leap Day does come it is rare and strange to see the occasion marked there on the wall. What else can I write in the square? Most years send the gift of detachment but here it is staring me back. Is there really a way to escape? Perhaps the void between the 28th and the 1st is the space the most real because I make that leap every day – every time I leap back to her darkness and light. Every time I leap back to myself.
© Angela Bigler 2012
photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/haniamir/2630466183/