a private communion

I dream of tangerines
sweet with summer
how I will wait 

for the right moment  

to touch, peel them 

with reverence

their flesh like that

of a new beloved
still secret

our meeting--kisses 

sluicing nectarine 

in blessing 

________________________

Pic: Geese on the banks of the Red Cedar. I thought there was something very balletic about their pose...

spring forward anyway

We woke up to snow on the ground, but it's Spring in my heart anyway.

Big A wimped out because it was cold and windy, but I took a long walk in the snow anyway.

It's too early to start the garden like I want to, but I started an array of herbs in planters indoors anyway.

Pic: Basil, thyme, rosemary, and mint growing in the solarium upstairs (the blue and red pots). Our quirky old house has lots of inconveniences, but its passive solar design means there's lots of light. I might as well use it for something good.

scenic/cynic

When I leave this country of fog
my bags of salt fall into the river
carried away like tears

*
breezes blow out birthday candles
whistle through my aching head

lift thoughts like kites

*

every day I make my body stronger
it will build a city, knock out bullies

I dream as fast as I can 

_____________________

Pic: The Red Cedar behind L's house. L will be gone for a month, so we had an extra long walk-and-talk this week.

more tea

This Friday started off slow--just a couple of advising meetings in the morning. But the afternoon was chairing the WGS section of MASAL, presenting a paper, showing up to a mentoring pod (somehow, I'm the senior-most and the most mentor-y), and then the faculty meeting. The final part of the workday was the annual International Women's Day Tea at MacCurdy House. 

The last part was my favorite, but I was tired when I got home. Thus endeth (I think!) my spate of late evenings at work this semester. 

Pic: Tea at MacCurdy. The Eleanor Roosevelt quote framed on the wall makes it perfect: “A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong it is until it's in hot water.”  Memories of other years: Pre-pandemic and Post-pandemic

"to everything there is a season..."

I spend hours every week caring for my plants in our indoor tea garden. It's a narrow space, but since it runs the length of our great room, the greenery and light lift me up every time I pass through. 

But... when I decide to sit in there to actually drink a cup of tea, I find that instead of experiencing calm and enjoying the space as it is, my eyes are darting around to check for errant dirt or for yellowing and browning leaves to pull, and other things to fix or move.

This is silly. It's a garden, there'll always be dead leaves and dirt and things to do. My new exercise is to enjoy the space without worrying about perfecting things. I lit the candle L gave me (lavender and neroli), breathed in the scent of my hyacinths budding, and marveled at the begonias blooming for the sixth year in a row. 

There's gunk on the bird pedestal under the small cachepot... but I'll clean it in the time allotted to cleaning. This is not that time.   

Pic: Tablescape with plants, flowers, and candle.

upcoming

"A book must be an axe for the frozen sea inside us." 

Kafka in a letter to Oskar Pollak 

As it happens: 

I have some books

I have at least two axes

I have the frozen sea

so I have all 3/3

*

the day is cloud-colored

my hair is in my eyes

I travel inside the love 

I have built for you

where it is windy

*

but this time tomorrow

Spring will be closer

these shoots coming up

groping their way into 

the air, would agree 

________________
Pic: Tulips (I think) coming up... Not my garden (I wish). From a quick walk to MSU this morning.

a koan noting nothing

look, I said to the sky
my yearning is born 
in the wrong time

these hands that held

books and babies 

now hold air 

even falling like beauty 

this light is silent

oh, cold god  

___________________

Notes: I like knowing "nothing" was pronounced "noting" in Elizabethan English. The "nothing" itself didn't come from emptiness but from a very long 12-hour (14 with the commute) work day.

Pic: The REDress Project by Jaime Black-Morsette at MSU. From my walk yesterday.

I march forth

It's only my fourth year of knowing my birthday doubles as "March Forth Day," but I'm carpeing everything I can out of the diem. 

It's the Monday after break, so there was tons to do. Plus, I had to send an overdue change of schedule postponing everything to both the publisher and editor. But I owned up and did that like a grown-up. Then I found some time to take myself out for a long walk and a long soak and read for an hour amidst my plants. 

Evening was dinner with the fam at Ruckus Ramen, and then back home for presents and cakes (pistachio-raspberry-lemon + a Whole Foods Chantilly cream with fruit as At is allergic to pistachios.)

I am ever so grateful for every minute of this. 

Pic: At's friend H took this picture of us (Big A, Nu, me, At). H also drew me a "three-legged cat" for my birthday, which I know I will hang on to for a while because... memories. 

"take a hike," they said

Well, actually no one did. But it has become a tradition to go on a hike before my birthday. Last year we went to the Ledges on a very snowy day. This year I couldn't have asked for a better day for my pre-birthday hike! It was such a balmy 60+ degrees and sunshiny and at some point, I had to slip my arms out of my long-sleeved shirt and wore the sleeves dangling like an extra pair of arms. 

Burchfield Park--new to me--was an easy eight-mile loop and scenic all the way through.

Pic: Big A my navigator + water and snack carrier ahead of me. 

just killing time/filling the silence

mothers look away from me now
seconds abscond with sense 
in glissandos of angst

dreams pour out their sure poison 
I play it safe and then pretend 
--what? I don't understand

watching homes bloom in flame
and wart and scab into craters 

--I am an earnest surveyor

of everything left unsaid, noting
the news burns the day when 
it could be lit up with peace 

_____________________________

Note: Someday I will write a poem about Aaron Bushnell, but this is not it.

Pic: A mallard couple by themselves... they took to the water as we neared and I felt bad for disturbing their peace. Baker Woods Bog with L and T.

Five thoughts and things on Friday

1)      If yesterday's post was blessedly whine-free about Gaza, it was because I whined on FB, where I've mostly absented myself since October, instead. And then my people stepped in full of strength and sympathy and support. How can I not believe in the potential of this world when I'm surrounded by so much kindness and love?

   2)     Almost too much love. Just kidding...

  3)     But actually, I was late getting home because a workplace chat went on and on and then late to book club because Big A kept on prolonging our soak-and-chat and late getting home to dinner because there was pre-birthday cake and jollities at book club and then late for a friend's pooja because the dinner I made (couscous salad with almonds, felafel, and a ton of veggies, + the spicy feta dip a book club friend insisted I take home) was amusingly deemed merely "a side" so Big A got some shawarma wraps to top it off. At that point, I decided it would be best just to send my regrets to the pooja people. And so I did.

4)      I also got all the plant care, cleaning, and settling done today so I can take the rest of the weekend off to relax and luxuriate in birthday love and prep for reentry into the work week. 

5)       Pic: A snapshot of my very whiny FB post. Soc med circles are so weird. I bet if this was on Twitter, someone would have told me to STFU already.