(A Sort of) Quiet

Sunday night.
Curled up in bed.
one magic bag draped around my neck
the other spread across my feet
both bringing warmth
and easing pain.

music playing
a gift that came by mail
from a friend

from where I sit to write
I can see three roses
12 lit candles
and some that aren't lit
4 crosses
4 photos.

on my lips I can still taste
the sea salt
of Mediterranean extraction
that flavored my dinner
an accidental purchase
yesterday, while I was looking for roses
before the drive and gift of peace
an accidental prayer, really

this has been
a day of extremes
emotionally
physically
spiritually

and so I sit in bed
and wait.

much of the "today I'm going to"
(take control of my life)
list has been accomplished.
only a few things remain.

there are emails to return
one to someone with whom
relations have been strained
one to another continent
a reply to a long expected note
that unexpectedly tore a hole
in my heart
more pieces shattered
and piercing
one a thank you for the music
that arrived in yesterdays mail
handed to me when I stopped to
pick up a bottle of wine
at my parents
and two to well-meaning relatives
reaching out for relationship
that I don't quite know
what to do with.

then scripture
time with Jesus again
readying for another long week

trying the new vitamins
recommended by a friend as
a possible way to aid with sleep

thereby
closing out a day that began
with another crying jag
(they've been a daily thing of late)
and contained within it
laughter
anger
love
hurt
practicality
unease
and
rest
in mixed and uneven portions
sometimes not waiting for the previous
to leave before it arrived,
overlapping experiences of life.

tonight my heart has
(a sort of) quiet.