Metaphorical Writing for the Day 4/11/2013

My monitor is on yellow.  The screen is black.  I press the button and there is my desktop like a new computer with no documents, no photos and no schoolwork like a ghost in the night playing tricks with me.  It is April.  Snow is on the ground–several inches of the 5 to 8 coming today.  There is thunder, as in rain, but not.  Already the slushy snow across the parking lot has turned to white.  Thunder again rumbles in the background.  What if I have to start everything over from today?  What if, and then I look at my back up software.  Everything is there, but all the photos would be gone–New York and the trips to places near my dying father’s hospital bed.  There is no restart button for this weather, but there is for my computer, and, with the hand of some inner knowingness, I click it with my mouse.  Everything is there again reminding me how this portal for the universe claiming its rights through me with depth and breadth and fingers spread like galaxies is more than just my own dream within the vastness where time and space lay flat unformed with formless form, while the thunder rumbles one more time outside. What is the message?  What is the synchronicity with this strange weather and strange computer event?  I had known there would be one more snow with all my friends persuasions of spring.  Did I create this? How narcissistic it would be to claim this event or that of my computer laid hand in hand with this strange weather.  The spread of fingers reaching out to this vast universe and back again to this keyboard has me silenced, so that the quiet music of something more can feed me.  There is a moment, when things can become clean and fresh, but all that went before is there, even if we can not see it.

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