there is a poem floating around in my head born out of my frustrations and acceptance and a little hope, marinated in sadness of course because it is, after all, my favorite emotion. and just like my husband puts turmeric (i actually forget which spice he uses, it could be cumin or something) in everything he cooks, i put sadness in everything i make. even the happy pieces have a little sadness hiding in the shadows. and i would really love to just sit down and write it out before it gets mixed up with grocery lists and errands, but i have to get two guinea pigs ready for grooming at the vet, and as it turns out, rabbits are a hundred times easier to handle than guinea pigs. for me, at least. and, being my life, that's really all that matters.
by tonight i will sit down to write and i will compare my life to the tiny little lettuce leaves in the very middle of a romaine heart, and i will compare you to an unsuccessful maxi-dress search, and i will say that every trip to the bank has something for someone and maybe i'll even come home to a package waiting at my front door. because that is, of course, one of the greatest feelings in the world.
and maybe it will be completely awful, but i will complete it because i have not completed anything in far too long and my blog is filled with drafts of the same poem trying to work itself out, and my same repressed emotions trying to hold onto the conch so that they can talk. because it is their turn.
and maybe if this poem can figure itself out, it can lead by example, and my life might do the same. because it needs to do something.
i need to do something.
*Father and Son - Cat Stevens
by tonight i will sit down to write and i will compare my life to the tiny little lettuce leaves in the very middle of a romaine heart, and i will compare you to an unsuccessful maxi-dress search, and i will say that every trip to the bank has something for someone and maybe i'll even come home to a package waiting at my front door. because that is, of course, one of the greatest feelings in the world.
and maybe it will be completely awful, but i will complete it because i have not completed anything in far too long and my blog is filled with drafts of the same poem trying to work itself out, and my same repressed emotions trying to hold onto the conch so that they can talk. because it is their turn.
and maybe if this poem can figure itself out, it can lead by example, and my life might do the same. because it needs to do something.
i need to do something.
*Father and Son - Cat Stevens
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