Not every love is Eros love. Not every love should be Eros love. I hope I get to show you how and why, but for now, we leave it for another day. For today’s blog, I take you through the mostly in body experience of my memories of my Grandma being triggered by a familiar tune causing real time physical manifestations using words. An Ode to My Grandma Sunday morning service Opening hymn Organ’s intro: M f s m l s S l l t l You know that song Choir sings: “On a hill far away” I know that hymn Every particle reverberating Within and Without “Yes, I know this hymn” I say out loud Everything echoing; Old rugged cross Old rugged cross Grandma’s favorite hymnal !! Uhmnn Tears brimming Some escaping Eyes scanning Phew No peering eyes Thankfully Lips pursed Chest tightening Legs crumbling Eyes closed Arms crossed My God, I miss her! Lips singing Song ending Tears dripping Dress wet Eyes red Nose running...
Love, Life & Poetry