All posts tagged: nature

Time in a Bottle…

It’s hard to pick up writing again. For me, journaling is not an old friend who  (though years may have passed) you can sit and sip coffee with like no time has turned at all. No, writing remembers…. So, I apologize if this is the other side of eloquent. I have been working pretty non-stop for about a year, with but a few breaks in between, and though I am grateful, I can’t help but feel worn. This January we moved to Houston and have just gotten the chance to settle in to our little apartment with our equally little family. I am savoring all of these moments. These moments of early morning coffee, of the light casting an effervescent glow on the hardwood floors, of the smell of mint and rosemary perfuming the kitchen, of dinners eaten around the coffee table (because we haven’t gotten around to finding one for the kitchen just yet), of midday walks, and of late night conversations talking about everything, saying nothing. These moments of just living. And breathing. …

And Maybe…. Mystery

I point my ears to the farthest tree and listen to the needles sway and sing, like a nursery song remembered from childhood. I’m thinking about mending, about restoring, about the remedy of words. Dusk settles and my thoughts inch toward alone-ness. When I sit on the suburban steps staring out at the particulates and angels hidden in the ashes of cigarettes, I think of the soul, of how, maybe it smells like the dampness of rain and if it can be mended. A soul who exists in autonomy, hermiting against the waking world. Content to watch the seeds separate and sow, to watch the birds bend back their beaks in this August heat. The truth is: we exist only inside ourselves, our souls are dormant and our real selves, unactualized. Often times, we are only ever half a real person. We whisper ourselves to sleep and drown in stagnant waters, warm, and maybe even comfortable. And, so, the words we use to sooth ourselves begin to ring true; we listen without question, without second …

A Simple Silence

How to Be a Poet (to remind myself) BY WENDELL BERRY Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. You must depend upon affection, reading, knowledge, skill—more of each than you have—inspiration, work, growing older, patience, for patience joins time to eternity… Breathe with unconditional breath the unconditioned air. Shun electric wire. Communicate slowly. Live a three-dimensioned life; stay away from screens. Stay away from anything that obscures the place it is in. There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places. Accept what comes from silence. Make the best you can of it. Of the little words that come out of the silence, like prayers prayed back to the one who prays, make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came.

Drishti

I’ve been absent from writing for quite a while now and each one of my posts seems to read more like an accuse or apology…. though I’m not sure exactly to whom, maybe myself, maybe you. I’ve finally finished with my undergraduate degree, I never actually thought it would take me this long. When I was younger life to me was just linear and (I imagined) if I ever came to a roadblock life would just halt… there would be no option to tread a different path. It still scares me that we only have one life. There’s too much to do, too many things to see, and too many types of people to be and meet. It’s always been frightening to me to just “pick one” of anything, maybe that’s why I am so utterly eclectic…. I’ve been so many different things (job-wise) , lived so many different places, and had so many different influences in this little life of mine. Now I’m looking for jobs in my area of study and it seems so …

Just a Description….

Coocoo of the mourning dove Rivals that of the rooster Cicadas chime in Maraca solo Balmy skin sticks To stagnant sheets Vagabond sheep Gnaw on false-sage brush Dismissive of the dogpear Broached to their coats Ocotillo spirals Thick, blooming buds, so red they almost Burn. Breeze sweeps through Wire fences as though Releasing this endless Summer

Ebb & Flow

I slink out into passageway of peace, clarity strokes my eyes before they open to greet the day, to feel the breeze on my cheeks. It’s that time of combined yellow/ blue light that the coo-coo doves and wrens beckon into morning. Trees dance along to whooping melodies, little girls freckled from the sun chase the cat through the sprinklers like little tyrant knights…. this is summertime. Still, I remain. Sitting outside in the gentle, humid Texas morning looking at my skin. One body, one mind, one being. Is it enough to live one life?  25 years into it and all I feel is the bitterness grind into dust and blow away like the flame in birthday wishes. Today I have made a promise to myself (and oh how I hope not to break it) to indulge in every waking moment in this busy, little, fragile life of mine. I haven’t been “home” physically or mentally for a while now, but am slowly regaining my grounds, squeezing a waking breath into that fictitious fable we …