In this house, there are thousands of corpses
You sit and say: "Here is my kingdom."
A handful of dust moans "I was hair."
Another handful whispers: "I was bones."
Another cries: "I was old."
Yet another: "I was young."
Another shouts: "Stop where you are! Stop!
Don't you know who I am! I am so-and so's son!"
You sit destroyed, astounded, and then suddenly Love appears.
"Come closer still," Love says, "it is I, Eternal Life."
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
- rather fitting, all that ashes talk, given that your son just got a tattoo with a wee bit of your ashes in it, and that the next day, I bizarrely stuffed a handful of those "leftovers" from his jar into my pocket, scooped up from where he dropped them, and cast them around the garden and off into the wind.
Also fitting, all that Love Appearing talk, given that I was just coming in the door thinking if I wrote a post today, it would be about how it is none of my business if I am in love again in this life. I could say No I Won't, I could say Yes I Will, but truly - I have no idea. And even if I did, it wouldn't matter. Clearly, what I want or don't want is not so much the way things go. I have a vote, if and when someone arrives and offers up. But whether that offer arises or not, whether I am loved and in love again in this life, is not up to me. In a way, it is none of my business at this time.