Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Dear Mary

Tell me Mary. What am I to do? It’s you and I, every night, whether in the bath or on my bed, my sofa, in the kitchen. You speak but I do not hear you. No, no. This is incorrect. I do hear you. It’s just that I don’t understand what you mean by what you say, what you communicate. You do not speak like us mortals. And I hear like one.

You know that I long. You know that this is not enough. You know that I dream. You know that for some of us, this dream is an impetus for more. You do not judge me although I fear your gaze. I fear the unknown and what is.

When the water comes down up from these pipes and through these walls, I am reminded of my wholeness and my nothingness. I did not know how water could be my refuge. When I close my eyes, I pretend, I imagine what your voice sounds like in the spaces between and in drops. You know that I increase the pressure in the hopes I will hear you better. When the water comes down hard against my skin, I remember myself. I remember you.

I must admit, the water is also a form of distraction, a distraction from mindless chatter. It is not a form of escapism, I assure you. If anything, I’m drawn ever more close to you. Better you than anything or anyone else. This is for certain. I do not want to waste a single second, not a breath on anything other than what is real. . .for me. Should anyone tell me what I am best to set my mind on, what I am to do to be, what is worthy of my time and my heart, they will be ignored especially when wisdom and advice appear to be accompanied by insincerity and hypocrisy. No, no, no. The taste is heavy with metal in my mouth. Yes, they will continue to be ignored. And because of this, I shall become stronger.

I feel the blue that is you. You and I haven’t always been close. You had never been my first choice. It was He I went to, I prayed to, I spoke to, like friends, like family. Now, it is you. It is a feminine thing, I’m sure. You represent strength and beauty. You carry the sword and the wand, the cup and the pentacle. You are gentle when you need to be and stern as well. Good for the soul.

Thank you my Mother for being patient, kind and true. I am learning to hear with my heart, my beautiful heart. God Willing, and with time, I hope to perfect, to make use of this gift, so that I may serve you better, for we both know, I have not served you enough and not from the right place. May I, too be true. And when you see that I have gone astray, when you see that I am about to make a grave mistake, may you intersect, intercede, may you present yourself in all your glory, as a form of grace, of mercy.

I thank you kindly in advance.

With love and humility,

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