Marred by asymmetry, she is earthbound. Vulnerable and imperfect. Even on such a day as this, under such a sky, life is a painful, messy pursuit.
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It’s a Beautiful Day for Memes!
The day is beyond beautiful. How about a nap in the sun? Or a lovely, itchy roll?
How about a brief tour of the yard?
Along with dashing outside every ten minutes, I’ve been catching up and cooking and generally enjoying my day. What’s more, I received blog award nominations from Kathryn Martins. (It’s okay. Really…go ahead and click on the link! I’ll wait while you read a few of her posts. Or all of them. At least take a few minutes to meet her dogs.)
I tried to follow these awards back to their source, but never found a starting place. I think they are wonderfully mysterious. Where did they come from? Better yet, where else will they go, once I’ve passed them on?
They come with a few rules. I’m supposed to thank the person who nominated me.
Thank you, kathrymartins1! (There’s the link again, in case you missed it the first time…)
Then I’m supposed to say seven things about myself. Since I received these awards on such a beautiful day, I’ll say seven things that mattered today:
1. My father died of a heart attack when I was fifteen. He was fifty-two at the time of his death. Today I had blood drawn to monitor my cholesterol levels.
2. After my lab appointment, I made the mistake of stopping at the grocery. It’s hard enough to be sensible in the grocery when I’m well fed, but after a twelve hour fast it’s virtually impossible. Cookies, anyone?
3. And speaking of the grocery, at least I remembered the things that I meant to buy. The chili smells delicious.
4. I detest shoes. All shoes. It was such a relief, when I got home today, to confirm that it’s warm enough for bare feet. I’ll need socks, later tonight, but not right now.
5. I saw the yard’s first honey bees today. My bee-spotting abilities are directly related to my shoe aversion.
6. I want to finish my day’s work before dusk, because yesterday evening three rabbits played a hilarious, rowdy game of pounce and chase in the back yard. I’m hoping they’ll return tonight!
7. I want to be a writer when I grow up. Doesn’t everyone?
Finally, I’m supposed to pass the awards to seven other bloggers. That’s the best part! (And it involves more links!)
Seasonings – Just a Little Poetry by Betty Hayes Albright
Persephone Writes by Angela Cybulski (kathrynmartins1 nominated this blog, as well!)
Reading as a Sacred Art
Reading as a Sacred Art
If the words said nothing at all
You would still read meaning
In the spaces between them
Feeling your way through tangled text
Pauses and pronunciation
Bend under your touch
Familiar words flex into phrases
As hard to know as a stranger’s yesterday
Anything I meant to say
Is obscured by what you meant to hear
And the words remain mute
Captive in the spaces between us
Unable to convey
What I am saying
And not saying
The words do not speak
If anything spoke
It could not be written
Muttering along the margin
Reciting in the tongue of Eden
The first rule of words
Which supersedes both our meanings
That innocence and truth
Cannot lie together
Now we understand
As long as we speak in Eden
Say rib and serpent and lost
What you hear
Was not written here
Could not exist
Until it was lost and found
In your own experience
And if the words said nothing at all
We would still need meaning
In the spaces between
Courage
Courage
Courage surrounds her children
With sharp railed chairs
Rowdy friends and wasps
Conceding the wisdom of pain
She knows the world
Which her children must meet
Its deep rushing water
And sweet-tongued strangers
And cabinets lined with poison
Courage hopes children see clearly
Between fear and danger
She allows her charges
Conversation with fanatics
The writings of heretics
And knowledge of many gods
With their many different histories
Of savagery
She aches
When her children discover
That not all facts are truth
And not all truths can be known
And Courage stands by
As her children learn the only skill
That can ever, really, be learned
The individual and perfect art
Of survival
Where deep water holds less dread
For one who understands its current
Moss Forest
If I were a fairy, I would want to live in a moss forest.
Rae Spencer 