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.
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2 thoughts on “The Altar in my Soul”
Beautiful and poignant. Thank you for sharing this.
You’re so welcome.