I go to sleep most nights with the most obscene panic.
Questions and the desire for a cigarette.

After a frightening conversation I was given a picture.
If only I had the hands to paint.

[it is dark. the image and atmosphere.]

It is this:
God exists in my life as a tension that stands over my head.
Tied at one end is logic and understanding.
The other side is held up by childhood teaching and past interpretation.
And in the middle lies romanticism and the concept of an aesthetic Christ.

In the moments that are quiet: either peaceful or anxious.
God rests.
Just above me.

What is it that I see in music and old cars, landmass and hands?
I wish there were something substantial, something understandable to hold onto.

Angles and perspective. light through tires.
muted light on car windows.
This is time taken. Not a moment contrived.
Something happens to me on nights like this.
Even if I force myself to wonder if maybe all of this is man made,
God can not be denied.

I crave for these moments to be tangible.
Sweet, but filled with depth of understanding.
They ought to be fashioned as something bare but beautiful.
But I won't let the sweetness of it get in the way of sincerity.

It's in the marsh. In the songs.
In the misery of this not working.
The panic it brings to think that maybe I got it wrong.

I've somehow lost familiarity. The tone of your voice.
I wish I had a place where we could bump into each other.
Somewhere across town.
Somewhere I'd find you reading and drinking a cup of coffee.
Early in the morning. By chance.

Hair clean and only the window light.
Unpretty but happy.

I am ill with the notion of finality.

The scent still exists.

But patience is beautiful.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

indeed as our good friend has said.."patience is beatiful and fulfilling" ...darling, this is beautiful so raw and honest and thoughtful..sorrowful yet there is hope in it...and it is beauty- your writing, real beauty. I think that this piece is profound in your life in many areas and I cant wait to talk to you about it all...call me when you can...
all my deepest, warmest love

September 13, 2006 7:08 p.m.  
Blogger the tapered pant said...

who provided such an incendiary revealing? Certainly, it is Truth. I love you kid.

September 17, 2006 4:02 p.m.  
Blogger Spiro said...

i love ksj. i have no other words.

September 19, 2006 9:52 p.m.  
Blogger melanie said...

when will we talk again?
i miss you.

September 19, 2006 11:12 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

certainly a sentiment shared by many whom struggle in the war between intellectualism and heart.
~joh van vlo

September 26, 2006 1:34 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

kristina your writing has actually taken my breath away. I cant believe how you put things to words that people...even i have felt..we all can feel but few have been able to capture the beauty of a moment, emotion, anything, that ive read. I usually get bored and skip down afew paragraphs but your blogs captivated me.
i apreciated the patience definition a lot.

January 21, 2007 12:20 a.m.  

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