Archive for December, 2012


Their wings were too small to see — mere buds, barely a blip on the skin. But they finally sprouted.

Some were cloud white, others a chocolate brown, or black with a blue sheen, cream, beige. Earth tones. But they are not of this earth anymore.

I don’t believe in any capital G kind of God as described by any religion. But I know. I *know* with the certainly that comes from knowing matter can never be destroyed, merely transformed. Water turns to steam, rising in a mist before your very eyes.

So, too, housed deep within their earthly bodies, I know that soft down pushed forth and gently blossomed. And slowly, with the pull of an otherworldly force they unfurled.

They grew.

They expanded right and left, simultaneously, till the span was far greater than the height of their small bodies.

The weight of the massive feathers, rising upward as the young innocents fell to the ground, lovingly drew out their souls. Their shining centers may have risen or floated or glided for a time, but, eventually, dispersed.

And for the older one, teachers, counselors, and protectors, their majestic wings were made of light, laughter, gentle words, helpful knowlege and warm hugs, and long since freed of flesh. And when they, too, fell to the cold floor, covered not with feathers, but with too much red, their flight was slower than the children. They were and are the guardians in life and after. And their jobs were not done till all were gentely gathered and could leave as one shimmering veil of lost live that moved — away — somewhere.

And though I believe not in god or heaven, I do believe in strength of will, determination and love and support of true friends, community and family:be it a biological blood bond, or the connection gorunded souls make when meeting someone new and the feeling is that of a lifelong freindship already established,

I never met any of you 26 felled in Newton, just 60 miles from me in NYC. I never witnessed your terror firsthand. And, I’m sorry, I won’t visit your many, many graves –because it hurts too much from afar and I would drown in sorrow that close to you. But my heart, mind, and currently grounded soul reach out to you in the ether. And I *know* you are free. Free of fear, pain and earthly bodies.

I feel you; I weep for you; I weep for the ones you leave behind — who didn’t see you glide away.

But I take a cleansing breath and know there is still hope. There is still joy — not today — but it will come again. People will come together and cement change, They must.

And then, one day soon, a gentle rain will fall, a mist of pure love.


You may ask, where the hell have you been?

OK, fair question. My best answer is down the rabbit hole.

My life has sucked.

My hovel of an apartment has sucked (and that ain’t changing anytime soon).

My chronic pain has sucked.

My job has sucked.

Hurricane Sandy sucked.

Oh, STD!

No, no, gutter minds. That’s what I say to myself when wallowing in a pity party.

STD: Stop Talking deMonterice. Or, in NY parlance, stop kvetching

I may stop talking, but I *had* to write. I mean, popping outta bed at 3AM gotta write.

Why?

Because Santa brought the good ol’ USA a sack full of slaughtered children and teachers.


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WARNING: Do not read the following if you have the blues. ‘Cuz I cried before, during and after writing it.

Click here to read “26.”