“Perhaps it’s the color of the sun cut flat; covering the crossroads that I’m standing at. Or maybe it’s the weather or something like that; but mama, you’re just on my mind”Bob Dylan

My once upon a time wife passed over to the other side a few months ago and today a message came to me, circuitously through our shared progeny and the family grapevine, by way of a dream had by our offspring, telling me to be careful not to do a thing that, inexplicably, I had just decided to no longer do.

Not sure if she’s watching me or if my thoughts caught the firmament and landed in my son’s psyche. I suspect the latter more likely only since the former would be just too flattering; what with all she’d now be able to watch, if in fact she’s gained that power, she’d spend those winged hours watching over me.

I’d be cool with either the celestial or the extra terrestrial phenomenon. If she is watching me she knows I’m living under an open heaven; writing in the wee hours  when the balmy silence of my paradise encapsulates my typer and me; freeing us to immortalize the only record that tracks my moods.

The moon has vanished and its afterglow is back-lighting the proud formations of ancient tree stands that silhouette both gods, and my, impeccable landscape; forming low rolling mountains around the bucolic void of an idle lake outside my beloved writing window.

The absent moon has left bite marks on the sky; all the rooms in my mansion smell like jasmine and when I finally succumb to slumber, if at all tonight, my soul will take up the dreams of the ghosts who slept here before me; maybe even dreams of her.

In these wee hours when thinking turns to feeling a perfect loneliness nestles beside me as I contemplate the length, breath, width and depth of the gratitude my Muse wisdom’s me to ponder daily; reminding me that every person, and every thing, around me is an energetic reflection of some aspect of my inner state of being. She counsels my heart to choose to BE Love and watch the world transform, amaze, delight and inspire.

The great Kurt Vonnegut also provides me with similar and equally profound advice half way through Slaughterhouse Five; the very same advice he was given by the Tralfamadorians, and it seems to have been forever ingrained in my DNA even before either of them said it; proof of Jung’s theory of collective consciousness.

Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones. Well hell, maybe that’s, after all, the secret and the purpose and the meaning of life. If it is; it’s plenty good enough for me.



About circusinpurgatory
Nick Masesso Jr’s fictionalized short stories, poetry and prose have been published in the Starry Night Review, Elegant Thorn Review, Language and and Vagabond Press; the Battered Suitcase. His latest book “Armor of Innocence” and first book “Walking the Midway in Purgatory, a Journal” are available on-line and through bookstores.

4 Responses to Paradisio

  1. Paul Orngard says:

    your best writing yet

    Sent from my iPhone

  2. From short order cook mixing hearty goulash to master chef creating Pate’ a rich, dense food; to be eaten slowly and savored. Thank you for the kudos.

  3. Reblogged this on Nick Masesso, Jr..

  4. Dynamic descriptions, moonbeams to the soul. Positive vibes deliver happiness in the lovely lane of life !

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