The girl who was once from NYC unintentionally transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside nearly three decades ago. Teacher, singer, writer, photog. Dancer along the path through the dark.
~May words and music and laughter light the way to kindred spirits, kind of heart~
Also a Mommy. That's the most important thing that's happened along the way, but not what this blog will be about.

Words and music and more brought to you by merisongbird.

©2010--2014

 

In My Cotton and Boots

mornings that slowly awake

with the with sweet little sounds

I unfold bit by bit

look not too far ahead

but just peek at the length

settle into routine

all the rituals done

thinking this is my life

(but last night I had dreams where I laid on the ground

and I thought about you far away

I wore cotton and boots

and i stared at the sky

in my dusty bright nowhere

someone there by my side

…feeling this is my life)

Happy Birthday Gene Kelly. Childhood crush.

Happy Birthday Gene Kelly. Childhood crush.

You always find what you were looking for when you’re not looking for it. Most of the time it’s that missing sock, or the salt grinder that’s reusable and already filled with pink Himalayan salt to match the pink Himalayan salt you bought thinking you had a reusable salt grinder a few weeks ago (annnnd you didn’t). But rarely is it the things you feel a need for deep in your soul. 

Tonight I’m sad I hurt my hand so badly last weekend, some irreparable damage it appears, and have had to put some parts of my life so important to me, on hold for the time being. And I’m beyond sad that my cat died. And maybe because of all of that I am sad about the loss of my marriage tonight. I see all the reasons why we never worked. But I am still sad for the loss of the parts that did. I am looking for peace but having a hard time finding it. Tonight. 

It appears this will be an excellent day to focus on the beautiful things in my life, and read.

It appears this will be an excellent day to focus on the beautiful things in my life, and read.

The thing is, sometimes you can have a conversation with someone, and after initially thinking there is something there, you realize there really isn’t. And that’s okay. Didn’t really want to go there anyway. But it’s a little disappointing to realize that the chances of meeting anyone where the so-much-that’s-truly-important is mutual get narrower all the time. And to quote Lauren Bacall, “I’m am essentially a loner.” And I’m okay with that. But I still miss feeling so connected to someone. I don’t think there’s anything that hurts as much as feeling so connected to someone and to have them choose someone else to be connected to over you.

From last night, sitting in the bench and watching the sunset turn the clouds all sorts of lovely shades of purple.

From last night, sitting in the bench and watching the sunset turn the clouds all sorts of lovely shades of purple.

Not sitting in a park in Paris, France
but sitting on a chair in the early morning late summer air and bird call.
I am a free woman in a state I don’t love but have called home for 26 years.
And here I will stay to raise my kids nearby the man I made them with—
The morning light is filtered through clouds and my cup of coffee dreams is close by, and full.
A ramble of my morning mind, pajama pants, and morning sounds,
my day rolls out before me with no promises at all, and yet I feel blessed.