The Altar in my Soul
a prose poem by Joy Murray
I built an altar in my soul for you. I adorned it with things you made, things I made, dried flowers, sea shells, stones, vessels and wishes. The altar has infinite space because I built in my imagination where there are no limits. The sacred space grows til I can no longer grasp it all. I conjure you up.
There is a meadow of wild flowers, so bright with color that we are silenced by the beauty as we walk hand in hand. There is a pavilion built on a pier over dark waters. We dance there. We shed our broken bodies and slip into a shared dream, dancing alone, twirling together. You are so close to me, then you are so far away I can’t see you.
I know you’ve gone back to your real life. The one I have no part in. The one where you work so hard to survive the illness you don’t deserve.
I sit with this altar in my wheelchair. I pour water for the ancestors onto parched ground and wonder which of us will be among them first.
I light all the candles in my soul and roll into my day, knowing in my sad old bones how far away you’ll always be.
I wheel my way into my life, awed by the strange, broken beauty that colors all of my days.
This blog is brought to you by the generosity of people who support me on Patreon , buy my art, and who support me in so many different ways.
Cards and prints on some of my art is available on Redbubble.
If you find a typo, let me know, and I’ll send you a postcard.