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

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