12 March 2013

An Approximate Tuesday

With The Monkey being tracked out of school,
my studio time is limited.

These, however, are the good days.

7am and morning light.

12pm and vintage books-
I dusted them off and put them on the mantle.

3pm and new shoes.
He is now a Mustang.
T-ball practice starts Saturday.

6pm and shadows lengthening.
The front porch shines.
I am the proud new owner of a screen door.

11:15 as I type this
and there is a book waiting on the nightstand.
I continue to read Anais' diary
and draw certain parallels and potency from her life.

There is hot tea.
Windows cracked.
The occasional eighteen-wheeler rolling down Main Street.
The last of the night birds.
And the house sounds, settling even still.
I suppose it has settled since 1942,
always finding a new equilibrium,
a more comfortable orientation.
A more authentic stance.

I write with that rawness that only
heightens the gratitude.
That rawness which breeds a greater awareness.

I feel the shifts around and within me
as I have felt them for months now.

Part of me prays for stillness.
Part of me prays the rocking never stops.

How else would I learn the art of balance?


  1. How can we learn if the rock never rolls.......

  2. your rawness is why i hang around.


    1. My rawness, my nature, drive more away than closer. Thanks for letting me just be me, and better still, for loving me FOR it.... and not despite it.

  3. amen...how else indeed
    sleep well Miss Rosy

    love and light

  4. Replies
    1. Thinking of you, Cindi. Stay tough. <3

  5. Replies
    1. Thank you, Jill. It feels good. :)

  6. I used to have those books as a child... it's somehow comforting to see someone else who has them. :)