The girl who was once from NYC, transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside. Teacher, singer, writer, hippie chick. 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.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
just now
momentary peaceful I’ll take you anytime
the calm—the less than reeling, something sweetly
filled with children watching movies and the lingering aroma of the dinner we just shared—
and though my heart sits heavy often (always) in some ways
the truth is so much lighter than a hiding and the settling I’m doing in my loneliness is brighter than a life under a thumb—
under a blanket of stars
comfort to take from the sky
lie on my back while I count all the breaths we take
wonder of wonders gone by
none for nothingness
wrapped in a silence, golden like sunset
perpetual radiance stretched out but cold
except for the see-through haze from a clear view
crossing the distance, fingers of soft light
so thin and so quiet
ancient but brand new…
Sometimes things revisited are sweet, and sometimes a reminder of what’s missing, love. And this can capture both, to feel, the hope of springtime that’s not there. The chill of winter still in the air. What once was there, but hangs itself. Takes two to mend. Two to repair. One flight of two just for our kids. One flight, always just so alone.
small and always/grand scale anyway
some things pass without a whisper
and some things take forever and ever
never really leaving much
always feeling deeply such
indelible and warm at times
and misty like the rain
(just another day to find)
dilly-dally day, but soup and peace
a few kind words and skirted discussions
with money on our minds
we let it ride and try to find
to make it all work out all right
to make it come out even
he(art)work
quiet little slip of evening waits
and tiptoes up and down inside my mind
(to do with all this time…?)
the things I must and then, some writing or reading or musical bent
the luxury of flannels and time
and tea and the peace in my mind
and rather than loneliness here all alone
this evening I feel more my inner self growing
as years ago also alone and most sober
my life took a turn for the good
and so now I feel that way too
revel in small stuff and dream bigger dreams
and small steps and seconds that blend and feel sweet
a come and go slope
but up more than down in the way that is best
for a head and a heart and soul deep with hope
the only horizon is me
the way I was once, the best way to see
you hope for the click but it never comes
that point where it’s clear
and the meddling meant nothing
but to sit and watch the sun come up and die again and again
the years have passed and still go by
and you know you just meant nothing, too
moments to moments
some up, some down
roll on anyway slowly and quickly toward the end
truth and honesty
it doesn’t fly so much as trickle
here and now and again,
she glances at the journal now
a bit more paper and pen
she says her things in phrases full and not so much in poems
and keeps them by her bedside in the place she calls a home
A potpourri, a map
designed by time to be just so
dissolve delicious here we go
and sleep the sleep of dreams
it’s better than it seems
