170. Don't stop the music
"And my bones -- my bones recognized the intensity and the beauty. There wasn't enough air in the room, but I didn't want the music to stop one bit. I was in a lane of mystery, trees surrounding me, fairy lights in the distance, the woods waiting, the lane waiting, Tinkerbell and her kin waiting, and where I might step -- toward the trees, up the lane, toward the fairy lights -- didn't matter because in the moment all directions were possible, all were precious, all were holy, as the music surrounded, entered, bathed, embrace me, and promised it was okay, I was okay, whatever might come, the beauty, the miracles, the mysteries would sustain me, world without end, amen."
Sent to Lucy Pritchett, November 2009.
From the It's Only a Book project in which I'm deconstructing my 2003 book, Grace: A Memoir, and turning it into art.