Monday 4 February 2013

Speared With Rainbows




I wear my tiredness all day like a fuzzy coat.

There is always a bit of me that never gets warm - sometimes my heels, always my thumbs and now in the cavity of my ribs, small ice floes that jumpers can’t reach.

At YoSushi I send back my bowl of Ramen soup - I don’t see steam rising up from the surface - how can you break into a fridge heart with tepid miso?

In the kitchen this afternoon the work surfaces, the cupboard doors, the clock on the wall - all speared with rainbows - late sun funnelled through a wedding present crystal ball hanging in the window all these years - reminding me the long light will come back soon, soon and unfreeze my chi....

And this Rumi quote....

The wound is the place where the Light enters you......





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