"i loaf & invite my soul." whitman
in the quiet morning cool,i wrapped myself in grey and green.
i took out my books,
heated my mighty leaf,
sat to entertain company.
the first honored (and too often ignored) guest is poetry: the reminding study of anne bradstreet, emily bronte.
second is the poesy of Thomas Merton: Seven Storey Mountain.
and we four joined hands,
whirled in wonderwoman-like blur.
when we stopped, splattered with cold tears and admiration, we noticed we were in a holy place.
and for too long have i approached this place with requirements and checklists.
turns out he/she meets me in literature.
and shouldn't i have known this all along?
after a morning of quiet pondering,
i donned a skirt and stockings,
grabbed a scarf (though quickly discarded as the heat of the sun accosted my nocturnal eyes),
and headed out on the town.
first to a bookstore (the first of many to come) to find some Merton poetry and to check out the competition. i tried to work up the courage to ask if they had any open positions - i couldn't.
second to an appointment with my counselor.
third to trader joe's.
home to joel.
home to making niki's cottage pie.
home to wine, bomberman (one of the only xbox games i can stomach), a purring beauty.
home to home.
sometimes, rarely, but sometimes
pace outweighs productivity.
and it's good for my soul
to go slow.
pace outweighs productivity.
and it's good for my soul
to go slow.
~taking her easy for all us sinners,
crm
3 comments:
"ya.. well... the Dude abides."
-The Dude
oh, bomberman. best late nite game EVER. loving your poem this morning!
xo
I love, Love that sometimes the holy place springs upon us and we're shocked to learn that it is here and now. That it never was where we were told to find it, that the guilt of waiting post-protocols was never necessary (how I wish it was that easy to release) because it would find us right where it makes sense.
I will carry this into the studio today.
- U
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