Dear Caterina
What I want—
To mediate with you for 60 minutes
And not a peep from me
Our eyes closed I’ll silently chant
A mantra to you, for you
Quelle surprise … I missed you
And often did breathing meditation
Or listened to Dylan (from the 70s)—
“My patron saint is a-fighting with a ghost
He’s always off somewhere when I need him most”
Tuning in to a different frequency
Because that third week I feared!—
Were you having a breakdown???
But I learned that in the midst
Of that inferno you weren’t inferno
That ancient metaphor can be dusted off
Death (May) and Resurrection (August)
I know you’re resilient (flex those spiritual biceps!)
Just like me you don’t wanna be weak
But some truths can only be learned
By looking up from the bathroom floor
Re-entry is a process
Like trying to read Montale to begin learning Italian
Me? I was smiling ear-to-nose
Returning to mere Missouri from the minatory Middle East
My heart expanded over there like yours did in Cinisi
Put it to good account on the home front
