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Or So I Thought: Amidah Gift June 6
This flow of words,
breadcrumbs on a dark path
have become a pattern
of hopes
under which
I have placed the fabric
of my days
during this haunting time alone.
Away from the hubbub
I knew as normal.
I had thought these outpourings
as gifts unbidden
but I see
by my systematic reaching
for pen and notebook
that they are my creations
alone,
proof of my sanity.
I have given this gift
to my self
from my Self
and the I
I write tonight
is the self in my chair,
seated in flesh
grateful for connection.
“But I am also here,”
She murmurs.
“Your proactive stance
nullifies not
My Presence,
minimizes not
in any way,
My longing for you
just as plaintive as
your longing for me.”
© Leiah Bowden 2020