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I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Monday, September 1, 2014

#BlogElul 6 - Search

There was a pencil.
I swear to God
there was.

And that note,
the one I scribbled
in bright red
lipstick
on the back of that
menu,
the one from the
Chinese restaurant that we like.

And I couldn't find that
thing,
You know, that thing
That thing that I've searched for
everywhere I thought it should be.
That store -
That sweater -
That job -
That word -
That note.
You know:
That note that sounds
like a bell,
or a gong.
or heaven,
or your breath
just before dawn
when the light is crisp
and the air is gold
and your fingers tangle in my hair;

That starts from a point,
a single point
of space
or heat,
Just that one pinprick of a place.
It sounds,
and it radiates out,
and it flows up
Like honey,
or glaciers,
or wind,
and carries
the music of God
and the sound of your
Laugh,

and that sound -
that note,
the one that I've
sought
and search for
and seek yet
again.
That note:

It carries me
Home.


(c) Stacey Zisook Robinson
2014