this limbo

Out of the glass door i can see a tiny fragment of a plant. It is bathed in the unnatural light of a solar garden luminary.
The sight is so familiar and so strange. there are clouds in the sky and no stars. there is no light except for the man made kind.

Sometimes this is what we see. Sometimes there is no light except what we decide is there. There is no moon, there are no guiding lights. There is no illumination from the last rays of the sun filtered through thick clouds. It is only a murky darkness, the kind that you get lost in. The kind of darkness that has lead travelers astray for centuries.

Sometimes we are in this every thickened and oppressive darkness, and the only thing left to do is to search it for a few rays of human made light... a few stray beautiful,  shining, glowing lights amoungst the oppressive darkness.

This is place i do not like to stay long. it hurts, it becomes difficult to breath, all the shit, all the hurt, the pain, the "done me wrongs" of your life come flooding back.

And these little beautiful floating fairies of light and beauty become all the more valuable. The moments of closeness with someone you love. The soft brush of the face of an animal. The new flower blooming... The knowing that everything happens for a reason and sometimes those reasons seem completely stupid and worthless, but that in the end it looks like a winding and meandering stream slowing joining with other beautiful winding steams, combining their stories and futures and pasts to become a stunning picture of growth and time and knowledge gained. These are the moments when you can step back and see where you might be headed, what incredible and breathtaking views you have seen, and might see tomorrow, never the same and always more beautiful than the last.

How is it that the only thing i want to share with you is the experience, the observations, the views... No matter how many times i have seen them they will always be different when i see them with you. You came into my life when i didnt think i needed anyone. You came into my life when i thought i knew what my future would be, and you turned it upside down. The view was so different when i stood with you and looked at my world from a different point of view. It needed not be a one of disappointment and resignation. It was ok to reach for what i wanted.

Do you know what I want? Do you really? It is to be be able to walk the day and not think of tomorrow because this one is so beautiful. It is to be caught up in what is to come, and then to be startled back to the beauty of the day. It is to crawl into bed, and be pulled in close , your head resting in my hair, to not even be able to distinguish your words when you mumble, asleep, "loveyou". it is to wake up every morning and to not want to get out of bed because what more could i want with the sun, or the rain, and the sky and the clouds, and that tree, and this dog, and that purring kitten, and my love with your arms draped around me, and then to realize that the day is only going to get better from there.

Sometimes the garden is the most perfect comparison. You plant these seeds, you think so hard and long about what you want to grow, what you want to grow next to each other, how wild can your imagination go? I my garden that I planted this year, I was gifted space, the magical and elusive gift of space. So my dream... which that it has been, I have spent many a night ,with visions of spiraling vines and fruit and vegetable laden plants growing larger than life. In my dreams it is much like the secret garden. Of that movie I remember only a few things, I remember the intense and overwhelming swellings of grief, of loss and utter despair. I also remember the most beautiful garden, nearly overgrown, yet clearly kept and beautiful, full of flowers. And that is what I dream of, a place to put down ones sorrow, a place to bury what needs to be left behind, and a place where the flowers can take that sadness and turn it into utter beauty. And here we are at the beginning of the season, when you plant seeds, so so so many seeds, you can almost smell the flowers as you plant the seeds, and then you step away, you step back from the garden and ll you see is barren ground, sometimes cracking and dry, no life, just blank. Nothing. Maybe tears and sweat have dropped into the soil, empty beds of imaginary flowers. The only thing you can do is wait. You wait and wait and wait. it becomes an obsession. Finally they start to emerge. The weeds grow wild. and when you pull them out it again is an empty wasteland. at some point you look away. And when you look back, all your hard work, the sweat, the tears, they have grown and what emerges is the most beautful and wild garden of them all. It needs tending and care. love and a firm touch, but it will grow for you in ways you only dreamed it would.

And this place of uncertainly, of barren wasteland with little paths and divots in the ground where i planted the seeds.... this is where my life is. I planted all these seeds, and then at some point, now i look away for a minute... and hopefully everything shoots upward. I can only hope and cross my fingers and water the garden.

I will crawl into bed and be grateful for what i have, I will smile softly to myself as he falls sleep with a heavy arm draped over me, breathing heavily into to my hair scented of ponies and hay and dreams.