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Post by Sarai Lee on Jul 10, 2014 15:51:57 GMT -5
I have no truth to give that is not already burned in the skin.
Slash the core, with steel like knives cutting away pretension. I emerge on the other side victorious. Someday this will all seem petty and small. This struggle will seem like a long forgotten dream, and I will tell it like a story I wrote on a summer's day when there was nothing else to do. I'll tell it as if it had happened to someone else. There was a great battle you see. The heroin triumphed, the war was won, the day was done, the rest came easy. Other metaphors will mean more to me in age.
Someday. Someday there will be children and grandchildren with tiny feet and hands, whose screaming warrior cries will give birth to generations of strength and renewal. On that day I'll sit with tired hands and peel apples. Snap green beans in a bowl. Wear a big hat. I'll say things like "go on outside" and "sit a while". I'll tell adventures about giants and hard times. I'll sing sweet lullabies of blessings and autumn leaves. I'll be wrinkled with wisdom and all the memories will pile high like the mountainscape of my tomorrow.
Someday. When we understand the winter better. When we are born again each spring. Someday we'll be like the seasons and it won't be a story anymore.
Today, I burn those hurdles for Someday. Today I understand why we have to burn. No sword forged without fire. And we will need a sword Someday.
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