UNLEAVENED Looking back at you standing there, wind swept on an edge of grey northern moor you were just one step away from what you wanted, Tir na nog through a bank of mist, the voice calling you there all right but indistinct, the half perceived angel flitting in the grey wind curl of a northern sky always present always opening her hand to you, and you were already half way there in one sense already fully realized in another waiting for everything to happen, and for you everything was an omen, a presage, a first possible invitation, now, my first thought looking back at you is to be that revelatory angel my self and out of the rain laden sky put my hand in yours, to help you over the threshold into this future I now inhabit and which strangely I inherited from you, but the first touch of your hand always transfigures as if you were waiting for me all along to come back and find you, and I realize standing here in the rain and wind, the two of us come together through all difficulties in one sheltering body at last that only through your eyes would I ever want to live the future again. -from Pilgrim and the upcoming new collection, The Seven Streams: an Irish Cycle
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What can be said to this but "yes". We wish sometimes that the journey here could have been otherwise, but this brings us back to remember the truth. Who I was and who I am. Where I've been and where I live now. So beautiful, David! Thank you.
The annunciation of soul. The gift of everything. 🙏❤️