The sky is clouding over. It makes everything feel so finite, so immobile. For an instant it is paralyzing – I want to stare at the sky and see something thousands of years old to remind myself that things are not always what they seem, but instead I am staring at the sky and wondering how soon it is going to rain. I suppose it can’t be all transcendent all the time.
I can’t find You in anything around me at the moment. All of it seems so tame, so quiet. Sometimes I feel that Your name is dangerous, that I could whisper it into the earth and the earth would rise up and consume me. Sometimes I feel that Your name is hope, that I could whisper it into the breeze and then hear You whisper back. I will not do either. Your name is echoing in my mind, and it sounds like the ringing of a bell. Cernunnos. Cernunnos. Cernunnos. There are times when I can find You in the smallest things, in the flight of a wren, or in a bumblebee in the lavender; there are also times when I think I could gaze at Your face and still not see You.
I cannot find You. I love You anyway.
I cannot hear You. I speak to You anyway.
I cannot see Your face, or hear Your voice, but I know them as I know my sister’s smile, my father’s laugh, my Lover’s touch.
I will try to remember, Cernunnos.
I love You.