D is for DRAWING says THE TURQUOISE WOMAN

Greetings, Humans :

I am the Turquoise Woman.

For some of you the challenge of the day is D.

I chose the word DRAWING :

From your heart you may DRAW love.

So few of you do that.

I understand.

To love at all is to be vulnerable.

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.

If you want to make sure of keeping it intact,

you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.

Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;

avoid all entanglements;

lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.

But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--

it will change.

It will not be broken;

it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.


There is another meaning for DRAWING, of course.

As with Roland's DRAWING :

From now to May 21st

(the day some addled two-leggeds believe Judgement Day will come --

as if each day were not Judgement Day for each of you in so many ways)

From now to then,

if you write on Amazon a review of his book, THE BEAR WITH TWO SHADOWS,

you will receive 5 entries for a drawing for three autographed books (one of them to be left a mystery)

{those who have already written a review now have five entries in this new drawing}



Another sense of DRAWING is ,of course a representation in ink,

an etching if you would.

But each of you etch your soul by the choices you make

and by the life journey born of those choices.

I am Day.

I am Night.

I am the World.

I am the Turquoise Woman.

And a traveler like all of you.

You walk miles.

I spin through the vastness of space,

listening to the ghost songs of the solar winds.

I awakened already spinning through space,

hugged to the sun's warmth by his invisible arms of gravity.

But the sun is a distant lover,

following his own path through the stars, drawn by bonds of his own.

He is caught like a glistening bead of dew in the web of the solar system.

Together, he and my sisters journey in a cluster

which is itself part of a moving community of stars you call the Milky Way.

Travelers all,

we can neither turn to the left nor to the right of our own volition.

We are children of gravity and explosion,

cast into the darkness by forces we little understand or know.

I used to envy you your freedom of movement, of choice.

But the longer I watched your scurrying over my surface,

the more a dark truth spoke to me :

You, too, are children of the gravity of your species

and the explosion of the times around you -

which you little understand or know.

You bristle with denial?

If you cannot understand your own heart,

how can you understand another's?

Which choices are yours totally?

As gravity and momentum send me on my path,

so do your DNA, location, and experience

spread the pattern of the paths before you.

You are no more free than I am or the goldfish wandering the narrow confines of its bowl.

From within its bowl, the world seems so large to the goldfish.

Yet, it is trapped within invisible walls.

As are you.

Freedom is an illusion to the goldfish, to me, and to you.

Do we choose or do the choices choose us? ***

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