And The Veil Drops

Pain is an odd homecoming… Floating in and out of consciousness on waves of fire that bare no resemblance to  the cool tides of the ocean… Waves that threaten to drown me in the dry hot air of August.

The smell of the city from the window… Exhaust, warm pavement, fried food, tired dreams…. The smell of crisp white blankets, latex, antiseptics, worry… Through a haze of tailor-made chemicals, my personal concoction of sanity, delivered by a pretty young nurse…

Leaving nothing behind but a sterile canvas and a soiled paper gown, the doctor departs the room.

At first tossed and buffeted by this torrent, this flood, this tempest of red, I am now beached. Soundly beaten, quivering and fogged… A dream perhaps? Am I here?…. A rustle of cloth and a cool hand on my brow, the smell of patchouli…

In the car, air-conditioned haven of silence, with a cool treat… A smoothie? Maybe.

Lessons. Did I learn any lessons today? Does this make me stronger? Have I not been tested enough already? So be it.

You fall off the horse cowboy, you better get right back up there.

Yeah, life is a roller-coaster, a labyrinth of pitfalls and booby traps, a great cosmic joke with a twisted sence of humor. I have faced more than this mighty anvil of desecration could ever drop into the soul of me, and I have not broken yet.

If you have ever wondered what true strength was, I will tell you now. It is planting your feet firmly into the earth like stubborn roots, tilting your chin into the red sunset with your arms spread like boughs, and swaying with grace to the pull of a receding southern wind.



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