Some days, beyond freewill,
there lies still waiting
grazing
without notice,
desire and fire and little known blessings
in a land that asks too much at times
leaving me half baked and looking for water.

Some days, I cannot find the words I am looking for
and I get lost a midst the grayness of an afternoon in my life
that seems like yesterday but has lasted much longer.

Falling into timelessness
and no time
and anytime
and all the time,
I wonder where I am and where I am going.

I weep and I cry and I saunter through the woods of my heart
looking to find something I know not of.
And I wail and I laugh and I rejoice
and I fall down and splinter myself into a thousand pieces
and when I stand,
I find only part of me and then I say:
“Would you look at that!
Would you just LOOK at it!”

I wonder on the words.
Sometimes I cannot find them.
Sometimes I feel I may have left them somewhere,
perhaps in the refrigerator where I was last night
looking for salad from upstate.
Perhaps I have dementia of the soul
or Alzheimer’s of the heart.
Sometimes I feel forgotten by my spirit, my mind, my heart…
frozen like meat with freezer burn
and sometimes I don’t feel so right.
I feel crusty and hard, stiff and rancid.

But mostly, I like words.
Adore them.
I have written many of them.
I have read them.
Answered them.
Used them.
Ignored them.
Needed them.
Cradled them.
Nursed them.

Misunderstood them.
Wished for them
and have been in awe of them.

And sometimes,
I have fractured my essence
by drifting into their solitary places.
Words have them, you know.
Solitary places.
They can be in the spaces between
the words.

Some say one can find heaven between the spaces.
And others say you can find hell there too.
Spaces
and traces
and really dark places find me sometimes.
But it’s all good.
And words are good.

All of them.
Every one.
As for the spaces in between ?
Those spaces to me are heaven.
Those spaces to me are where God speaks.
And when God speaks Her words,
I usually listen.
Mostly.

kimberly millen brown March 2012