a vision in the tall grasses of self-care

June 28, 2009 Candace Morris 8 Comments

close your eyes.
now open them.

you see up as you lie down.
you see the vast heated blue.
you see two swallows playing tag.
you see the wind flirting through the cedars' skirts.
you see the longest strings of grass leaning over your face as they tickle and twist.
you see the perfect way this grass frames the sky above you.
you see the sweetest heave-hoe of his sleep'ed breath.
you are napping in the field in the late summer sun.

close your eyes.
now open again.

you see the one you love as the child they once were.
you see your future.
you see that you are childhood companions.
you see how much he has taught you, for instance
you see that you've never even once reposed in such tall grass.
you see that if you can continue to reclaim the childhood you wanted, then finally and clearly
you see hope.

Self-Care Sunday Report:
1. Oysters fresh caught.
2. Bouquet of the sweetest peas.
3. Delightful bit of Savignon Blanc to take the edge off Saturday night's hard partying.
4. Lying in the grass and watching Abbey learn to use her puppy legs to swim.
5. Mom's cherry pie made with her freshly picked cherries.
6. A solitary wander in the garden, stealing ripened berries and fondling yellow roses.
7. Hands of warmth and love to rub all the pain away.
8. A family walk through the woods after dinner.
9. The residual good feeling of having a camera in my hands last night (totally stolen from a friend). See results below!
10. Hot, hot bath with mask.

In this season, the blessings abound.
I can hardly keep up with the contentment.

And my eyes have never been more wide-open.


Lewis and Gang Reunion June 2009

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