What binds me?

 

(Yes, I know it is Friday. I'm a day late!) 

Karen Eastland offered today's writing inspiration/prompt - to think about 'what we bind ourselves to' in our spiritual journeys. Check out her thoughtful reflections on this theme, and read the comments for links to other writers and their responses.

bind -
     to tie or fasten tightly

This prompt is so expansive...and a bit of a riddle, really. 

I wonder, 
am I bound spiritually? 
Tied up? 
Unable to believe in new ways? 
What anchors me?

Yes, my meditation on this theme has taken me in a zillion different directions and left me untethered (pun, yes?). 

Ultimately, for this post, I have landed in grief. Let me try to explain - 

A short while back, my sister-in-law died unexpectedly; she was very, very dear to my husband and me. She was his baby sister, and, with him being only two years her elder, she was someone who has always been a part of his world. Certainly, she has always been a part of my world with him; she was one of the very first family members I met, when he and I started dating. So, this is one of those tough deaths that feel 'unfair,' 'too soon,' 'more was possible.' It is painful. 

I decided to simply hone in on one small sliver of my spiritual understanding of the word "bind," which is to ask - 

what anchors me when a loved one dies? 

I offer a poem.

as I grieve

what am I to think 
of the turkey vulture
watching  
from our very roof
when
tears 
stain our cheeks 
welt our eyes
tremor our bodies
with the news 
of your death,
you,
our forager?

then
in the days
that passed
in the mournful
after
there are so many woodpeckers
working
hunting
finding

these are an easier happier perkier beauty
lively little birds
percussive shouts
pauses
further taps
as if
to say
HEY! 
LOOK UP! 
LOOK HERE! 
LOOK NOW!

which is you
which is you
which is you

every woodpecker
reminds
I feel
remember
hold you
in my heart
softly

nature 
mysterious and beautiful
little heavenly embraces 
offering light

as I grieve 

the sun telescopes through a dark gray sky 
a cardinal suddenly appears in the dogwood tree 
lenten roses stretch their freckled ruffled heads and genuflect
a wandering cat lingers on my driveway to greet me
the doe pauses as she crosses the street, looks right at me, 
tilts her head ever so gently
as I grieve 

each of these healing finds

a connection
to someone I hold dear
bridging is and was

a liminal touch

nature holds me wraps me binds me
as I grieve

the drumbeat of the woodpecker echoes my heart
as I grieve