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Show 35 (The spiritual process begins with lead, p. 2) Start with that: the dull, oxidized ache that sinks and weights your lowest part. The anger of your father against you, your mother's hidden tears, a flare of hate for brother or sister, a fight that left you in a bloody rage. There's death in you, malleable, heavy, the fused mass of all you've buried and lost, the melted vessels in the ashes of the temple, the treasures of a burnt house. Hidden, forgotten, foregone but not gone, the massy droplet that fits in your blackened palm like a talisman, a charm, an invocation to begin and charge the heart's alembic, to resurrect that potent, sunlit body of love. |
