Saturday, January 5, 2013

Winter Saturday morning, Santa Fe

I wish I could identify the scent, but it seems I can*t.  Once again I am reminded that smell is our only unmediated sense.  It does not go through our brain to be processed.  It just is.  Again this scent smells like what I know heaven smells like.   Not mediated through the brain... I*m not sure heaven ever is.


I woke to the same scent         
I remembered from two summers ago,
Except it is winter
With snow.
It seemed to be
On my pillow
Except it wasn*t.
It was also not
On anything else
I smelled.
I went on a scent hunt
Through the bedroom.
My sister says she smells roses
When Mary arrives.
It was not roses I smelled.
Like last time
Just like last time
It smelled
Like Heaven.
It is winter.
There is snow.
Heaven still makes itself
Known.

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