When one’s world shifts, quakes … one can lose their footing, leaving that one to stumble off-kilter, muddled-minded through the simplest of daily functions. In the midst of the upheaval … the stumbling around in the aftermath of dust and debris, one cannot see that the rest of the world has not shifted, for the quaking beneath one’s feet was localized, individual … it was not, after all, shaking below the Earth’s crust, but the seismic shifting of souls that have been united since the beginning of time … pre-ordained by a Force far more powerful than tectonic shifting.
This seismic shifting is what I felt the other day, after breaking news of a loved one’s fall, from across the country … the tremors … they can reach around the Earth, when souls are closer than their physical containers.
Off-kilter is how that day began, from one coast to the other … moving toward the subduction zone.
Emergent cracking just below the surface rose above, showing the ugly head of destruction. When destruction begins the souls gather at the epicentre, hold vigil for those who need help, hold vigil for the survivors … for the souls who are left after the quaking stops (does it stop?).
The sands shifted under our feet, rendering us unsteady, off-kilter.
We have been shaken by this striking down of a soul so close … but not destroyed.
itsawonderfilledlife 