Time plays tricks on you that all the decades have not taught you to understand. It moves quickly and slowly all at once, you are blessed in all directions. She says I wish you would stay, and you picture your two rowboats bobbing on the desert sea, taking on rattle snakes and solitude from opposite ends of the ranch. The dogs swim back and forth across the waves, making sure everyone is accounted for.
In the late and drunken night, she reads your Tarot cards and they speak only of adventure and discovery, only of clearing mist and you think maybe everyone is on the same journey. Surely not all these signs could align just for your strange walk through the worlds.
Later, I sit at the shrine and count my blessings, speak them at the nameless god I do not know, think how strange it all is and how nothing really is under our control, after all. Wonder if it would be better to simply give in and coast along the current, see where it may take me.
Nowhere I've rowed the boat thus far
har gotten me where I wanted to go.
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