Shock and Awe

Tightened jaw, I did not love. Flashback of myself  jerked about, legs high above my head, men laughing, I came to sea drifts, movement and crashing. I found I am not so far from God exploding. Gifting, a friend once said, is why we live. Seven storks still and white on a gold lake. My lazy eye glances back to that original split, myself  high above myself. Whiplashed into forgetting, I didn’t know hours from minutes. I was hypervigilant for catastrophes. My head raging then numb. The early garden bare, and now, shocked with sudden memory, I return to changing sky hues, blooms of lilac bursting along sidewalks. Lazy in the grass, I free myself of guilt, imagine musicians in the park, us overcoming ourselves. My eyes open before stars. Holy these leaves, these skies. What is torn opens for the light.