“I hold everything that is—
sand, time, the tree of the rain,
everything is alive so that I can be alive:
without moving I can see it all…”
~ Pablo Neruda
I imagine myself creating collages from wisps of words and these late-summer colors that will flutter away too soon.
I imagine myself writing at the desk in my corner nook with the autumn-tinted curtains and the window overlooking the fig tree, maybe wearing glasses, certainly with a mug of something inspiring.
I imagine myself flowing with the energy that produces firm abdominals and freshly baked cinnamon rolls, open eyes before the first alarm and no snoozing.
I imagine myself hanging my personality on the line and letting the breeze smooth away the wrinkles.
I imagine myself dissolving the judgment I feel (or conjure) at church in a jar of full-strength understanding until the colors blend together and I realize nothing is going to explode.
I imagine myself floating away on a Nickel Creek song into the dragonfly blue with a cloud bank pillow and the sun playing grace notes on my eyelids.
I imagine myself drinking in the love around me with thirsty pores and watching the too-tired, upset-stomach, bad-mother days blossom into life more abundant.
Two beautiful poems…. I would love to share your clothes line, I need to de-wrinkle myself as well. Wonderfully put.
lovely
beautiful, beautiful 🙂