I am not so different in my history of abandonment from anyone else after all. We have all been split away from the earth, each other, ourselves.

The mind can forget what the body, defined by each breath, subject to the heart beating, does not.

Each time I write, each time the authentic words break through, I am changed. The older order that I was collapses and dies. I lose control. I do not know exactly what words will appear on the page. I follow language. I follow the sound of the words, and I am surprised and transformed by what I record.

This earth is my sister; I love her daily grace, her silent daring, and how loved I am. How we admire this strength in each other, all that we have lost, all that we have suffered, all that we know: We are stunned by this beauty, and I do not forget: what she is to me, what I am to her.

Yes we are devilish; that is true we cackle. Yes we are dark like the soil and wild like the animals. And we turn to each other and stare into this darkness. We find it beautiful. We find this darkness irresistible. We cease all hiding.

We keep secrets from ourselves that all along we know.

I am not so different in my history of abandonment from anyone else after all. We have all been split away from the earth, each other, ourselves.