may day

through the years, it has been a day to fend off the evils of witchcraft. celebrate saints, virgins and workers. dance round the maypole and bring in the hawthorne. recognize the arrival of spring and its verdant promise of fecundity.

this year it rose sunny and fair. i traveled outside my usual orbit to possibility, to a place where the yards are large and a little wild. i saw a peacock. (while pregnant, dante's mother dreamt her son ate the berries from a laurel and as a grown man was transformed into that brilliant shimmering bird.) the meeting felt easy. different words, same page became the consensus. good. hope prevails, not anxiety. have i finally learned to avoid becoming unnecessarily committed to something not yet within my grasp? we shall see over these next days.

i strolled in the brightness. i took in the magnolias, the cherry blossoms, the forsythia, daffs and tulips, and the cheer those kinds of days bring to this city. fickle weather and lagging seasons bring impatience. but a day like that and all seems right.

i was avoiding coming home.

the memory of last may day still sears. it brought a hurricane of sudden discovery. honesty. hurt. hate. humiliation. loss. the day the roof was ripped off all our safe havens. so much damage remains unrepaired.

night fell. i came home.

a wisp of wind brought papers from the west. channels of which we are unaware, information disseminated in the wrong order. horrible realization i remain unsecured. once again, i do not have a haven.

mayday is a distress signal too. from the french "m'aider", "help me". what could be more plaintive? what could be sadder than sending the call to the unhearing emptiness beyond?