Sunday, April 11, 2021

Breath Song

Your breath's so imprecise in meaning
I can barely make sense as it swells
like lichen or love, the secrets it tells 
in its hard-earned and happy prison

Drawn between its vague borders
I learn by tracing the link of veins--
times, tie them to how you hold me 
sweet/safe for a heart-beat/a life-time 


[Picture from my perch where I was reading in the afternoon sun; wearing a faded, stained--but still favorited--summer blouse; marveling how the cherry blossoms are here practically overnight.]

Saturday, April 10, 2021

Furrow


I might meet you in the street
"wait, wait" you might say
kneeling right there 
in the cleavage
of the year
so honest
pouring beauty
rubbing my belly 
keeping full the promise 
soon scrambling across my face


[Day 100 of 2021; Baker Woods with L this morning.]


Friday, April 09, 2021

Plants (they're also what's for dinner)

Everything is coming up! Daffodils and pansies here, and cherry blossom, roses, and honeysuckle elsewhere--being outside is an olfactory treat this week. It's also getting to that point in the year when I'm in danger of spending more on plants than food at the supermarket.

A vat of spring-y green soup for dinner--used up most of the fennel, celery, bok choy, cilantro, and curly kale + cannellini beans, a dash of parm, and lemon zest. It was ok, I'm not likely to recreate this again--my choices were dictated by what was in the veggie box and needed to be consumed. 

In classes I sometimes like to ask when the last time people learned something and changed their mind was. For me, it was yesterday when CJ posted this Dr. Sarah Taber Twitter thread from a couple of years ago. The Imperfect Foods and Misfits Market boxes have felt like extra work lately; learning how I'm not really "saving" anything gave me permission to cut the cord there. At the height of the pandemic--MI is doing so badly, so I guess I mean at the height of the pandemic panic--it was a comfort to have these delivered, so I say goodbye with gratitude.

Thursday, April 08, 2021

tiny hellos


These (rue anemones?) yesterday--unlooked for and delightful. I thought back to them all day.

A long day of teaching, lots of individual conferences checking in on student research projects, and very little time for admin stuff that needs doing. 

Tomorrow is another day. 

A quick visit to At to drop off groceries and measure his chest (for a birthday present). 

LOTS of hugs.

 Back home, Big A's poke for dinner, and a snuggly semi-sleepover with Nu, Scout, and Huck. 

(Meaning--I'm supposed to be watching Umbrella Academy with Nu, but I fall asleep ten minutes in. The show is good, it's just that I'm tired.)

Wednesday, April 07, 2021

tiny observation




somedays just can't contain
all the budding--
new/s shoots 

insane: email says everyone
is sick with the virus
/vaccination shots



[Pic: greening in Baker Woods]

Tuesday, April 06, 2021

Now


a suddenly unscripted day
disappointment like a slap
the window yawns 
alive--also awake

summing up the end of day 
admitting only small things
the clasp of malaise
the wake of a stare

for my old, younger self 
the rest is baited prayer 
speaking forever
holding peace


Monday, April 05, 2021

Steal


Jasmine and bougainvillea are blooming in the tea garden. Also, gloriosa, geraniums, violets, and begonias which have wintered safely inside for years now. (Not in this shot, cyclamen and pansies from the grocery store earlier this year.)

I'd gotten into a pattern where most of the time I spent in the garden was maintenance time.

There really wasn't time or much sunshine today, but I found a spot (of time and sunshine) and sat there with a tall glass of lemonade quietly by myself (no work, companions, books, music, crafts, etc.). 

Would recommend. 

Trying for the Buddha's "attadīpā viharatha attasaraṇā anaññasaraṇā" (“Look inward; be a refuge unto yourself; seek no other refuge.” AM's translation.)

love so ordinary

you have to shut your eyes to see it that's when the day goes dark running like a scar seaming  into something close I stop, blind as a ...