Reading my journal from ten years ago.
How I was struggling then with all the same things.
The darkness. The heaviness.
Sometimes grace breaking through. Sometimes not.
At the pond my puppy barks at the water,
bouncing back and forth on shore.
Nervous. Excited. As if the pond has a body, too.
Is some heavy, indefinite animal.
All the leaves have settled on the bottom
and the water is dark. All you can see are the circles
the rain makes and a few bare branches
breaking the surface, reaching up from below.
I know the water is calling him.
I know soon he’ll jump in.