Spoiled or Met?

Casey does a gazillion things for me, like bringing me tea or a glass of water or covering me up or turning off the lights; the accumulation of which, over time, fills my empty childhood cup, parched dry from neglect, and early parentification, and a lifetime of tending all those who were abandoned after me. The thing is, it’s been 30 something years, and my inner child shows no sign of satiation.

Is she spoiled?

Indulged?

Or simply, finally, deservingly loved.

Advertisements

Graduation Missed

A shop keeper in  Donegal turned me on to Yeats (and wool),and some time later, I copied down this  verse so as to lure a lover back to me whose passion I mistook for soul.

I’d found a four-leaf clover on the day that I told him that I had to go.

“You’ll miss my graduation,” he said, and I did, after I extended my time abroad.

I suppose he never forgave me even with all the letters I sent and the Aran sweaters I brought home.

But this poem and I remained forever close.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Though it’s only now, “Old and grey” myself (though not quite “nodding  by the fire,”) that I realize that I was the “Pilgrim soul” to whom I would pledge my heart.

Waiting for a second child…

low tide; photo: Kelly Salasin
low tide; photo: Kelly Salasin

I want…

I begin to write the words, I want to die in your arms

But Jehovah Witnesses knock at the door, asking, Will death ever end?

And our 3 year old sits beside me on the couch absurdly throwing popcorn into the air to catch with his mouth

I belly laugh at his lack of coordination for the task…

And yet, your arms remain
beckon to me
your full body, naked,
Inviting
solace, comfort, love, passion…

If another year passes and another child is yet be conceived
will I realize the futility of waiting
for anything

All there is for us
is now

Your Knight in Tarnished Armor

Thu, 09 Nov 2006 10:21:33 -0500

From:  Casey Deane

To:  Kelly Salasin” <kel@sover.net>

This is probably not connected at all to how you are feeling emotionally, but

i must express it.  When you were reading this morning, when I came into

the bedroom, you looked elegant, youthful, sexy, atheletic, supple… it

was one of those moments where I wished I could sketch and draw… a

moment when a cast gets ripped from arms, and beauty overwhelms and inspires.

In fact, I really didn’t want to go to work today, but after seeing you

the inspiration to do something good in the world, to foster beauty,

insight, learning, made my heart pound; life seemed that much more

purposeful;  I wanted to feed the hordes, cuddle the masses, shed light in

the darkest places, part and calm the seas and shout from the mountain

tops.

It was like a peppermint patty experience,  you know when I eat…

I get the sensation…

Have a great day.

 Your knight in tarnished armor

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: