Newly Naked Neck

Slow-fall snow quiets Sunday dawn.

He turns off the hallway box fan, knocks on her door, and enters to kiss her forehead “goodbye.” Her sleepy voice is like her little girl voice. I hear her coo and emote for her father. Such tenderness; such blessings.

I have had a tendency to believe in any given relationship that I am special for a little while, but after sufficient exposure, I become less so. The origins of this are “daddy issues,” but then again, why dehumanize me like that? This trope became an ouroboros around my neck – fear eating itself for every meal. Someone cared about me enough to break this spell. They pulled the tail from the snake's mouth, showed it a better meal, and kissed me softly on my newly naked neck.

The Way has always been inside and with me, but how deliciously sweet to discover this from dialogue with another. The horror of always looking outward in avoidance or fear became the redeeming gaze that eventually permits the birthright of peace that has been and eternally will be both inside and shareable. Paradox abounds.

This new landscape is pure and peaceful. I'll need to shovel the drive before too long, but even that act can be a composure of reconciliation. A harbinger of salvation. A map to where Love resides.

A sweet, snowy chickadee bobs along the pine branch; thank you for the song of true friendship and Love.