Things Carried Through the Fire

My grandfather’s Talmud.

Your picture of Uncle Billy.

The innocence of our dog.

The things I never show the

world. The things I never show

myself. The things we believe in.

The dream I no longer need.

The uncertainty at the center

of all my plans. The small flame

that keeps changing names. Now

the days burn like bones, slowly

and all at once. And what we

thought would last burns like

wax. Under it, everything.

A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or loved one, offer your own list of things carried through the fire and what they mean to you.

This excerpt is from my book, The Way Under The Way: The Place of True Meeting (Sounds True, 2016).

*photo credit: Little Visuals