Melting

I sit this afternoon in a cold, dark hospital administrative room for a very long meeting. From time to time I look up above the meeting, and glance across the room at a shabby picture entitled "Peace and Serenity." It feels rather like an oxymoron in this place, yet at the same time I hold my glance for a few moments here and there. I open my imagination and fly away to a peaceful place inside myself, and then glide back into the room. I am a better worker, a better person, for these momentary flights of consciousness.

The glass on the picture is cracked, more irony in this institution in which we supposedly fix people. Or maybe the cracked glass is just a plain truth--beautiful pictures we all are, cracked personas and all.

I am acutely aware of my own longing. I book another trip, not letting myself loll about in questions about it. I just know at this time in my life I must go, as often as possible, away--or rather back to myself--even for a few short days here and there.

Life gnaws at me in my perception of its monotonous content and my inability at times to open my eyes wider. I tell myself grounding mantras, but I don't hear. I put a chocolate in my mouth for escape, but I don't taste.

Soon I will hold my daughters and my senses will burn like sunshine.
I need right now to take in every moment that melts me.