Every part of me is in love right now. All the swervy protons and nutrons and bi-polar electrons; every dessicated galactic molecule composing lil' David is in a timeless bubble. Pop me and watch my soul spill all over you like velvet syrup.
Long pending kamikaze blogg on Uncle Mike's amazing, well attended lecture and on my sojourn to wilmette. Said prayers of peace and pervasive joy for those crazy lovers who are timelessly beside me . Meditated in the Corenerstone room, snug blue talisman in paw. Last week I had a dream where I was with my mother in a Persian house that I had never seen before. Mom has always been the "cornerstone" of religion in our household. Dreams breeze on the back of my neck like droplets zipped from Lake Michigan. Saw an actual watercolor of the house of my dream in the cornerstone room. You've probably seen it too. I almost cried.
I did cry, not sob, but I allowed a stream of recognition and gratitude to inch down my cheek. I prayed the prayer for the departed over and over again; it's timesless refrain slavering from the tissue of my mouth an unconcious hymn:
O my Lord! Purify them from trespasses, dispel their sorrows, and change their darkness into light. Cause them to enter the garden of happiness, cleanse them with the most pure water, and grant them to behold Thy splendors on the loftiest mount.
It was the presence of my father. I realized that, had he not sloughed the physical cloak of his own health, of his corporeal presence, I never would have been allowed to have found all this. all this bliss. I never would have found the one thing that he spent his whole life rejoicing for in anticipation.
What greater gift is there then for a father to lay down his own life; to leave all the transient pleasures and perils this instrument of flesh bears, so that his own wayward son--his own crazy son who forged his own fall from grace long ago-- might be allowed to finally see?
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