My Sacred Regard

This is my spiritual reckoning, my sacred regard.

My reconciliation with the sun and moon and joy and tremendous beauty that surrounds me, entering into the crevasses even when my soul was weeping.

This is the moment when my sorrow is great, for I am sorry for so much. Though I do not regret my failures or the insults and assaults that come with living a life—I have been a faithful student of it all—I regret, so truly repent, the times that I was impatient, judgmental, and unkind. I am sorry.

And I am also delighted – lit up by the brightness of the world. Enlightened and infused by the light of my faith. And grateful. And now understand when my elders, some gone from sight, used to sigh and say – I am blessed, I have been blessed in my life. I understand the all-pervasive feeling of blessing. I understand the sigh.

I lean towards the mist of never more. I feel it in the balance of things and in my bones and blurred eyes, and in my ambitions, now quieter than ever before.

This is my call to the Invisible, the testament of my will, though not my last.

I will tarry in the days ahead, noticing it all. The pinches and the thrills. The noise and the song. The boredom and the fear. The prancing of youth and their unabashed desire to bend and break disregard the rules that often constrict and confine. And the curiosity I hold so dear. And the creative gifts of my muse. And the God whispers. And the rock and roll of exuberance. And the wistful longing, my heart wistfully longs for beauty. And the quiet that comes with time.

For whatever time I have left, I continue to unfold in the wonder of it all.
Unfolding.