elizabethlevett

A Gathering of Intangibles

Welcome, all of you. I’ve had a few things on my mind and thought we should get the whole gang together, sort of take stock and see who’s around, maybe raise a glass or two. Thanks so much for coming.

There’s Necessity. You know who you are. You always seem to come around. You can be hard to define sometimes be we know you to be the mother of the spoon, the pliers, the cooling rack, the button and zipper, the paintbrush, and the handkerchief. Still, a few inventions you refuse to claim, and good for you. These ferals are the offspring from the unholy coupling of ego and greed. You’re so wise, so measured. You know yourself and so should we. These wild children are not yours surely.

Here’s Longing. Maybe nothing can be done with you sometimes. But still you try. You always try. Do you always know what you’re after? It is a confusing and tiresome business you’re in. At times if feels that you are like a garment we choose to wear, heavy over our shoulders. Yet, after all, you are a good teacher, instructing us as to what we value, asking us to remember what we already possess.

And Love, in your glorious and varied array. You dress up for romance or stay casual for the long haul. Funny how your language can change from person to person, creature to creature but you seem to mean the same thing all the time. That’s quite a feat. And you do get mad, don’t you? But you never ever turn your face away. Not you. And you do keep that one special dress in the back of the closet. That one is for grief, she’s just another name for you, just one more way you show us your beauty.

Here’s to that fun little crew at the corner table. There we have Art and Music and Poetry. What would we do without you and your cousins? You help us fashion a container for our fancy and our folly, our brilliance, our meditation, and even our raging. We cherish you and elevate you or leave you in a heap by the sidewalk. Our abuse never seems to diminish your power though. Someone will find you; someone always does. Like a cracked glass to see through as clearly as we can.

Ah, here’s Joy. You are the buoyant, playground jump rope smack of sudden laughter, momentary eraser of trouble. Bless your heart. You spread yourself like butter at a sunny breakfast table and dance like ribbons threaded through our fingertips. Those of us who can find you even in the darkness, these are the truly fortunate. But is it luck after all? Maybe it’s just really that some of us persist in choosing you.

And Trouble, what about you? We knew you’d show up without the decency of letting anyone know ahead of time. Why do you do that? We try to keep moving away from you and still you find us, tapping insistently at the windows. You cause us to rise when we’d rather cover up and sleep through the morning. But you won’t hear of it, stubborn you. Somehow though, we do get through. I guess I’ll raise this glass to you then after all to thank you. Eventually, you do show us our strength.

You sit near Hope. She’s quiet, even shy at times. But she’s there. She has to be. Hope is quiet, but I can see her smile. And I’ll never give her up. Faith is here too. And she isn’t blind at all. She just sees more, a broader view than the rest of us.

Wisdom, there you are. Do speak up. We need your voice, however soft, it still cuts through the other noise. What you have to say defies time, brushes aside pretense and persuasion. We have only to remember to listen.

And Peace. We’ve saved your place. We miss you so much. Please come soon. We’ll be waiting.