Home

i'll paint the fences white for you
if you tell me you're coming home.

i'll put candles in the windowsills
to guide you in the gloam.

i'll wear your favorite dress and put a flower in my hair.
i'll warm the stove and light the fire
and sweep the front porch stairs.

i'll bake your favorite cake for you...
if you really are coming home.

i'll put away every fear for you,
if never more you shall roam.

On, in , and around Mondays: Cyclic

anxiety because he didn't show again... and is giving me the silent treatment.
but then peace, as we cross the WV border with bluegrass blaring on the radio... and a life-giving talk with my sister, ensuring that everything is and will be fine.

a memorial service for a spit-fire hillbilly woman who inspired me to fight... who stood up to a giant and fought for her beloved mountains.
but then guilt, when little one asks to leave because it's making him sad.
we walk around a while and then come back. he joins in chanting, "what would judy do? fight harder!" and stomps his feet. "this IS the year mountaintop removal will end!!"

driving in the dark to the lodge... nestled in the west virginia hills.
a much needed reprieve for both of us.
me, downtrodden, because no matter how much glue i apply, it just won't stick.
because i opened my heart up again... and failed.
him, hopes aroused but unmet.... tears over homework assignments that ended up being tears of a deeper nature. tears over something i can't fix.

but in all this cycle of sadness, anxiety, disappointment, we wake to a sunrise over the deep canyon. blue mountain majesty. bringing peace to a mother and son.
nature is crying out over judy..... nature is crying out over broken things...
because even the rocks and hills will cry out.

and then this verse.... "he will quiet you with his love".