moving.
The clock is lit again.
This opening jumps out at me as i cross 121st street tonight, looking left, to the east, to my favorite sight on my walk home. It's the clock on a church tower (belfry?) between Lex and 3rd Ave on 121st. It warmly beams the time of my arrival home, it signals i am nearly there--one more block, turn the corner, and my building is in sight. It makes me smile, inside, if not always out.
For several months, the clock was dark. I took a different way home most of those days, but when i chanced to walk from 125th and Lexington, i would turn my head hoping to see its glow. For months its eyes were closed. My journey then felt lost in time, just dark, surrounded by the deli/front stoop lights, glaring the same glare whatever time of night.
But tonight, i turned, and there it was, back on. Reminding me it was not so late an hour as it felt. Warming the urban landscape with something curved, pointing heavenward, ticking forward and on and on.
It's been a long time since i wrote here, i thought. And there's a good beginning. A new beginning, marked by a dream last weekend that's tremendously significant, one reminding me that so much good that we enjoy just happens, unbidden, unearned, and full of grace.
I'll be moving away from New York soon. Moving forward to Austin. Preparing for a new season of life that will only add to the mystery and wonder of being human, woman, daughter, child of God.
I expect I'll have more heart for writing then, in Austin. The clock is lit, the night moves forward, seen.
This opening jumps out at me as i cross 121st street tonight, looking left, to the east, to my favorite sight on my walk home. It's the clock on a church tower (belfry?) between Lex and 3rd Ave on 121st. It warmly beams the time of my arrival home, it signals i am nearly there--one more block, turn the corner, and my building is in sight. It makes me smile, inside, if not always out.
For several months, the clock was dark. I took a different way home most of those days, but when i chanced to walk from 125th and Lexington, i would turn my head hoping to see its glow. For months its eyes were closed. My journey then felt lost in time, just dark, surrounded by the deli/front stoop lights, glaring the same glare whatever time of night.
But tonight, i turned, and there it was, back on. Reminding me it was not so late an hour as it felt. Warming the urban landscape with something curved, pointing heavenward, ticking forward and on and on.
It's been a long time since i wrote here, i thought. And there's a good beginning. A new beginning, marked by a dream last weekend that's tremendously significant, one reminding me that so much good that we enjoy just happens, unbidden, unearned, and full of grace.
I'll be moving away from New York soon. Moving forward to Austin. Preparing for a new season of life that will only add to the mystery and wonder of being human, woman, daughter, child of God.
I expect I'll have more heart for writing then, in Austin. The clock is lit, the night moves forward, seen.
posted by ceciliabrie at
7:19 PM
1 Comments:
I'm smiling inside, too, if not outwardly, because it's nice to see you again, here in this space. I'll miss your New York stories, the view of that urban landscape from inside your head. But I'll love your Austin stories, too, because, hey, that's Texas. Once and for always my home state.
By
Dawn, at 1:23 PM
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