An Opening

I tried to localize myself to my body, the bodies of my mom, my dad, my sister, my dog.  I tried to localize myself to my relatives, my friends, the girl scouts, the swim team, the dance troupe, the writer’s groups, the meditation groups. I tried to localize myself to my town, city, region, country, planet, star, galaxy, universe. I tried to localize myself to a lover, a partner, a god.  I tried to localize myself to my children, my grandchildren, my god children, my pets. I tried to localize myself to my race, my face, my sex, my mind, my thoughts, my culture, my beliefs, my books, my flower pots. I tried to localize myself to the sea, the mountains, the rivers, the valleys, the animals, the birds, the bugs. I tried to localize myself to my name then
I followed my feelings which were the only things left out through an opening into a breeze that bobbed me up and down, slid me, bounced me all around until gravity was all but gone and just a tinkling was left. Was it laughter?
And I was  everywhere looking at everything through an opening that pretended to be an eye that suddenly blinked and my “I” was gone.
A breeze is lifting what is left of me through an Opening.
Photo by Jan Koetsier on
Then something caught what was left of my attention, something green and shimmering. Was it like seeing a shiny something at the bottom of a pool?  Floating in the opening I saw a cluster of greening fingertips lit from within. Like a curious hummingbird remembering the sweetness of nectar I zeroed in. An Angel with white skin swaying in the Huerfano Wind.  A lone Aspen Tree extending its limb. I am falling now into a nest of green, cradled now by the wind and the bark and the leaves. This place is strangely familiar. I settle into the knowing of this place, still, I have no name.  But laughing now, I nurse the first breath of my return. 

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