Tuesday, May 10, 2011


This swath of flesh pops and snaps about me like a snatch of ribbon snagged on the antenna of a speeding holiday roadster. The impulse is great to reach out a frantic finger and pull it in, before life flails it to shreds. Patience. The wind will soon unkink the knots and whisk it away to clear blue sky.

1 comment:

Suzanne said...

Poetic imagery. I cannot put into words my conflict with my aging body. As Fr. Bill says, our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, and some of us are building cathedrals. Sadly, I think he was speaking of size, not glory!