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| The Cascades -Sandy River Plantation, ME Photo by Sheryl Farnum |
To Be Sure
Slate - the finest grained metamorphic rock.
It foliates in planes perpendicular to the direction of compression.
Sometimes there is a hollowness to healing,
like some sort of scouring out.
But, at the same time a fullness is present,
or maybe a filling is more accurate.
This emptiness can be fleeting,
or last a while.
No right or wrong –
it happens as you need it to be.
It’s as if you become a blank slate,
yet the processes and layers that
formed, fused, cracked,
shifted along the way are still there,
part of your bedrock.
You can access their
energy and history anew,
revisit the wide range
of stories in the layers.
Sometimes a fresh plane emerges,
taking you completely by surprise.
For me it was a fervent missing
of my soulmate as the holidays approach,
followed by the sudden understanding
that I can, in fact,
be whole without him here.
His physical presence, I mean.
Just 18 when our lives merged,
I did not realize how much
I defined my self by our union.
No wonder the aftermath of his death
has taken so long to decipher.
Now I can even more deeply feel
how our time in tandem is
gracefully embedded in my layers
and that my substratum
has long been strong.
My slate is actually quite full,
yet has space for future foliation.
Understandable grief
accompanied by expanding faith.
A Happy Solstice,
to be sure.
Slate - the finest grained metamorphic rock.
It foliates in planes perpendicular to the direction of compression.
Sometimes there is a hollowness to healing,
like some sort of scouring out.
But, at the same time a fullness is present,
or maybe a filling is more accurate.
This emptiness can be fleeting,
or last a while.
No right or wrong –
it happens as you need it to be.
It’s as if you become a blank slate,
yet the processes and layers that
formed, fused, cracked,
shifted along the way are still there,
part of your bedrock.
You can access their
energy and history anew,
revisit the wide range
of stories in the layers.
Sometimes a fresh plane emerges,
taking you completely by surprise.
For me it was a fervent missing
of my soulmate as the holidays approach,
followed by the sudden understanding
that I can, in fact,
be whole without him here.
His physical presence, I mean.
Just 18 when our lives merged,
I did not realize how much
I defined my self by our union.
No wonder the aftermath of his death
has taken so long to decipher.
Now I can even more deeply feel
how our time in tandem is
gracefully embedded in my layers
and that my substratum
has long been strong.
My slate is actually quite full,
yet has space for future foliation.
Understandable grief
accompanied by expanding faith.
A Happy Solstice,
to be sure.
Sarah Carlson
December 21, 2018
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