The little one is leaving - Synapse Trap

Images by Apple Moshberry



A little more than I have ever have in the past, I’ve been asking God for comfort. I’ve rarely ever have done this kind of thing because most of my wants don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, especially when one considers all the genocide, slavery & legitimate suffering that goes on in the world. Also, my faith wavers from time to time that Yahweh would take the time to break thru space and time to help my goofy A$%, specially with all the disobedient stuff I’ve done in my short life. Nonetheless, we’re told by the Rabbi that God has no memory of our sins & we’re to “ask & it shall be received”.



So when I sometimes get those empty lonely dark nights of the soul moments and don’t want to call anyone just to burden someone else, I’ve been praying. And almost without fail, some spirit (some of you reading this even) will either give me a call needing help with something, wanting to see what I’m up too or some other activity involving my physical presence. In all these moments I’ll realize at some point my prayer has been answered, stop, face away from the sent angel and grin at the ground and thank the one who made it. Just the other night I had beamed the grateful ground grin while one of you hulu hooped in my parking lot.


 
So I was in Alabama this past weekend with my immediate family and mom’s side, and after a big day of eating, climbing rocks, caving & fishing, all the married couples and- in many cases their children with them- went to bed. I was so grateful for all the happy family love I got that day but I still couldn’t help having that I-wish-someone’s-head-was-on-that-pillow-next-to-me. So again I prayed. I didn’t expect one of ya’ll to in the next moment to start tapping on the window in the woods in Alabama but just wanted the pain to subside a bit.



I fell asleep somewhere around there and dang if the creator didn’t send one of ya’ll to me in my dreams. ‘She’ will remain named as such but I found She in the sunday school room that I grew up attending and she was spraying beautiful graffiti up on the church walls. I was stunned by the images and lettering went on about how beautiful & vivid the work was, to which She smiled blushing a little. It was then that I finally focused on her a little more and noticed that she only had one hand and that she was wearing short shorts. Yeah, like a nub & cheeks. She blushed even more after I didn’t spend much time staring at the mentioned body parts & went back to being enamored with her painting and saying so. I remember saying that her work edified the viewer as opposed to attack (ala Banksy & other political heavy handed artists). She said something like I was the first person that noticed her art before her missing hand and hawt legs and THEN proceeded to crawl up in my arms and on my lap!



In typical dream fashion, there was so much innocence in our chatting while we were intertwined that it was only when my 80 year-old sunday school teacher and my classmates entered the room, did I realize that this was a bit of sensuous situation. But apparently the old lady and kids didn’t get this either and came right over and introduced themselves to She. “We’re so glad you’ve chosen to share your art and join us today”, the teacher proclaimed and then commenced to presenting the lesson. The dream ended while She and I were grinning at each other, and then me at the ground, thanking God for sending She and also letting me sit through sunday school with a leggy loving one handed angel on my lap.