In Between Goals

Rain falling on snow.

Cat operas.

English muffins with strawberry creamcheese.

What is cloaked by invisibility?
What is all around you but cloaked by invisibility.

What shows on the face?
What is it like to have no face?

Yesterday I was thinking this, that:
There is nothing wrong with me that death wouldn’t fix.

It sounds dark, but it is light. The soul is fine.
It is just the muscle of the heart which was pounding at the door of the body, so hard,
that I turned around to look at where I had just been, and said, “What is that?”

It was me. My own heart. I had run up the stairs from doing laundry, and suddenly my heart was trying to break loose from its ligaments and crash through my ribs like the Kool-aid man through a wall.

So the question is, do I have to wear a helmet while doing the laundry? I am not entirely willing to accept death, but that is still much more welcome than passing out and hitting my head on the tile floor and ending up brain damaged.

I am just in between goals. The liminal space.
And not ready to create new goals. Enjoying the threshold, because choosing goals is a task I don’t take lightly.

In this place I fill the bird feeder, and see who comes.

I watch the snow fall, and then the rain come and remove it.

In the middle of the night, two cats press their faces close to each other in our dormant garden, and they stand mirror images in black and white, long silvery whiskers and gold eyes, and they sing an opera, just like two wolves howling together, only this is feline music, and sounds like ancient snow cats telling their creation myths, singing all the great battle songs of the ancestors. Creation and destruction.

And there are other things too, places and times in between creation and destruction.

Inside the egg, the bulb.

Last night gravity claimed the amaryllis. The enormous red blooms had grown heavy and in the dark the amaryllis took a swan dive from the bookshelf. It looked like someone had entered the room and thrown it to the floor, so spectacular was the spread of dirt.

Flower tantrums.

Tantrums of flowers.