Coeur Rage

Standing in the darkest of caves, I can not see my hand before my face. There is no breeze, no light, no movement nor sound. Sometimes I wonder if I am even breathing. I have turned and spun so many times I don’t know which direction to move in and fantasize that since it is all so confused perhaps I no longer stand on the earth but the ceiling or wall. The door has closed. It has been closed in earth time for over 17 months. I have heard all the sayings and “beautiful” platitudes, then came the judgements. How is it they can be so loud and powerful. Stumbling in one direction resulted in smashing my face against the rough rock wall or slipping into a quagmire with strong resolve continued to suck at me pulling me under and still no light, no air, no sound. I waited. Everyone says another door opens but it didn’t. Finally giving up my legs bend and I sit.

I feel the approach of death. My heart rhythm skips to an erratic beat. In a burst or resistance a sweet scented breeze blows past my face. At that moment the earth trembles and shakes as rocks fall and crack. The sound of cracking bones of antiquity. A moment of silence and within that fraction of time my heart revels the answer I so desperately longed for. Here lies wisdom. Here radiates action. Once the momentum begins it does not fade. I slip on the loose earth become snagged on sharp rocks and never know if the direction I clime is the right one but I climb.

One morning the air changes as a pink light covers me and the door is open. I closed it I opened it and all your judgements be damned. After decades I step out into my life, my way. This is not arrogance rather it is determination and freedom. Today I have the courage to live as me. Coeur rage the rage of the heart.


Stone bubbles


I spent a few days down in Arizona so close to the Mexican border I could have touched it, if not for border patrol.  The mountains here are beautiful. Everyone told us we had to to make a stop at the rock lady. Not being especially geological or a collector of rocks I wasn’t moved but being an adventurous soul I was curious and excited to see what would cause people to drive that far into the desert to buy a bucket of rocks.

The rocks were stunning! From red to turquoise, to unpolished Apache tears and raw rubies to ? Of course all the crystals and such but around the corner was a pile of almost perfect round bubbles. Heavy solid bubbles.  These bubbles were formed underwater in hot springs. The sandstone mixes with the sulfurous gases that escape under the water and harden into solid bubbles.  This one was given to me.

Kissing the vinegar bottle

Make mine thick, rich, dark sweetness. Yes, I saw my tongue curing around the neck to catch that last drop. In the store I was told it is great on vanilla ice cream.  She put the tiniest fragment of a bread crumb on a toothpick and soaked it in the dark richness. As it passed my lips I knew I was in love. True love. Love like I have never known before.  I had no choice I had to swallow. Swallow! Oh NO!! it is gone! Gone!  That just can’t be. Now that I have met you I can not leave you behind. With no thought to the price or the emptiness of my wallet I captured a small bottle and watched as she wrapped it in soft paper and a gold leaf bag.

Lunch at Brio paled. It could not match that fragment of divine pleasure. I could have been at a drive through for all I tasted. So today I created. Created a piece of decedent pleasure. Grilled salmon, mixed greens, fresh mozzarella balls, blackberries, and my prince. I drizzled the thick black sweetness across my plate and that’s when I saw it… The drop forming on the neck, dangerously close to gliding down, I had to, I just had to

So I did I caught the drop on my tongue. I swear the angels sang, the heavens opened. I reached nirvana. I melted joining with that tiny drop of fig vinegar never to be parted again.  Perhaps tonight…indulge?…. buy some vanilla ice cream and see what that match can do, anticipation.