|Bridge of Chance|
Friday, September 5, 2014
As Sacramento summer draws to a close I languish in every moment of sunlight. The scent in the dry-heat-air changes, ever so slightly and then at a moment’s notice autumn is knocking. She is a force to be reckoned with; everything she touches eventually becomes dormant or dies. She sets in motion the next turn of the great wheel. I use the last of the light to harvest summer vegetables, pick any fragrant and fickle fruit that remain! Put the garden to bed; cover it with the compost collected all summer long. I save a small plot to plant those wintry vegetables that will sustain me until winter has passed and spring knocks on our doors.
I look in the mirror and see sparkly white strands pop out of my auburn hair. As it fades into gray, my memories along with it. Antics of my ill-spent youth, ache of a lover (lanky and long-gone), opportunities passed under the bridge of chance haunt me. If I had only knew then, what I know now. But then again, I wouldn’t have what I have: house & home, family, career, and the autumn of my life to enjoy the fruits of my labor. The Sheer 80% of just showing up, putting family first and somehow loving myself enough got me to where I am today.
If I look closely, my mirror reveals crinkly lines at the sides of my eyes. Crow’s feet as some might point out. My eyesight, fading, I develop my ability to see. I now see with my heart center, my third eye and my intuitive mind. What colors, lights and dark spaces are revealed to me? What metaphysical paths un-noticed by the naked eye? Is it so bad to be compared to the stalwart crow?
My Womb, no longer can birth children, menses long gone. Can she birth new ideas? Does she finally have time to she always longed to create art, and poetry and food? All solely to nourish the soul?
What does the death of my beloved summer bring me?
If I look one more time in the mirror. Carefully, behind my smile, my laugh, the twinkle in my eye, can I see what lies on the other side of the bridge of chance?