holy | spirit

i hear you talking. sitting behind me. when im at my desk. I can’t see you. you sit in the sofa that im trying to sell. in the blue chair that grew up with me. and I play the songs you love. while you play with the angels. and I keep drawing and buying flowers. and I keep crying.

so I say

if god is water. I am washed in the Holy Spirit. and I think, let me share that in my work. may I be a blessing to others so they too may sob alone in the privacy of their own home. so I create. because I am washed in the Holy Spirit of tears in a cavern of grief for which there is no escape. I may not create tangible objects of pottery or knit. but I can make you weep. I can make you feel. to shift. alchemy baby.

in this darkness somethings germinating to take bloom and root again. someday not far away. and it’s never goodbye. it’s see you soon.