SOC Writing _ 28.5.21

Cloudy

These days like today have a squall in them – do things to people who want to stay stilted under their covers  - not leave the house, the room, the bed. But we are different – we would hole up in here like foxes making whanau – we would wait till the world ended just holding each other in sweet embrace. I wonder where we will go, what we will be – to each other and the world. The twirling trees are free - free to be permanent so that I can come along and love them permanently. Like I love – like the father I am – like I love you – fully without fear when I can hold my little boy who is terrified of growing up – can be held by his man and told he will be ok – like I say to my son when he loses his peppermint down the car seat and needs consoling – can do this to all the fearful parts of me – Man that I am – can feel all the little boy overwhelm and sooth the fuck out of myself so I can stand with you and love you like you deserve – for this time – for this moment. I love you. Take my hand and lead me where you feel – and let me take you to the land – where the old ones walked, where the stones have moss and the grass laid by my grandfather – laid by me – I love this land – where so much grief is held from my grandfather’s mourning the loss of his youngest son – sunk in like the stones I collected into a pile one summer – but this land grow rocks – it is the pain – resurfacing again – I know you know that work - to be alone with grief and to let the tears fall into the soil – or just the heaving of the heart burst again and again into this lot of life – you are coming closer to my wounds and I shudder as you look through me with your particular love – like a world ending love – like a crossing of a divide so lonesome and fierce that none would venture there - and, yet you do. Bless.