Clueless

I stayed up too late, puttering about the little apartment as if packing it up for the winter. I knew I’d be tired, but it’s so hard to be sensible when the little spirit of life swims through you, drives you. I leaned into the flow, followed the current, watered the plants. This year leaves us irreparably changed, the courses of our spirits altered, but it leaves us. 

Perhaps that will do. 

The ride to the airport was seamless, sunny Thursday morning in New York and the skyline gleaming. I board the plane reluctantly, like a lover torn from bed too soon, I feel like I just got you back and it’s hard to let that go. The morning glory vine climbs up my fire escape, just like I had dreamed. 

I know times are tough, now, I know things aren’t turning out the way you had hoped. But that morning glory does not remember the year that’s been, does not ache and stumble from days it no longer remembers. It stretches into the sun and winds its way around the next height, sprouting its blossoms as it goes, even though they last only a day, even though the joy is brief.

Everything is not happy, but something is. 

Perhaps that will do.