From a class I just taught at the Columbus Museum of Art. The joy in this felt right in a post about Andrea.
Words come less easily lately. I am stunned into silence by this world we’re living in. My heart aches but that is often covered over by so much red hot anger that I forget how much it is actually my softness that is suffering.
I will try to get back to writing more regularly because I have lists and lists of things I want to put words to. And I know if I write about what really matters to me that over time more words will come…
For now, I am, like so many on this planet, grieving the loss of poet Andrea Gibson. They were a gift to us.
And this … the last line especially… feels like something everyone should read:
“My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living.”