Bombarded by blessings,

bountiful beauty,

be, be, be.

“…when genuine passion moves you,

  say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.”

                                           –D.H. Lawrence

 

If you allow

sparks of truth

and beauty to ignite

what is tender

and alive within you,

there will come a time

when you can no longer

contain the fire,

when you must spit

that flaming ball of yes

into the world

and risk burning

the whole place down.

As you nestle into my pillow,

I smell the lotion

that one of the technicians

must have had on her hands

when she held you down

for x-rays this morning. I reach

to pet you, feel the knobs

of your spine, feel shoulderblades

jutting from you like scree, feel

the vet’s prognosis splintering

me, recalling the conversation

I tried to reason my way through

with all the right lines

about your quality of life

being more important

than invasive treatments,

about dying

being part of life, my voice

beginning to tremble

when emotion snuck up

and pushed reason out

of the way. And tonight

my hand shakes its way

across your brittle coat

while I revisit our agreement

that you will let me know

when it’s “time,” but tonight

you just nestle in further,

purring, stretching,

letting me know

it’s not yet.

Drooping limbs,

burdened under

the weight of winter,

will free themselves

and spring back

toward the sky

when they dance

under tonight’s moon,

shaking off those

snowy shackles.

I managed to lose the trail

after misinterpreting the sign

and not looking far enough

in every direction, which,

on any other day

would have been fine,

even fun, a chance to scout

around and explore more,

but not today, not

after waking up two hours early

with my heart trying to sledgehammer

its way out of my chest,

not after sobbing over breakfast,

then sobbing even harder in the car

when a radio story on gratitude

left me thinking that what

I’m most grateful for right now

is making it through the past

several months without completely

coming undone, and then sobbing

even harder when I realized I have

so much more than that

to be grateful for,  no,

today, instead

of an opportunity

for adventure, today

losing the trail only meant

I was lost.