thoughts… from the porch.

thoughts… from the porch.

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hello my old friend, been awhile since we spent some time…
the relentless tide of cold has relented, and the world seems to be stirring from her slumber, some number of months now since I sat here, for this simple pleasure, inhaling and sampling the entirety of my immediate native surroundings, to sit and unpack my thoughts, a bird burst from a box, here I am again, alone, outside, starry night, full moon bright stained with a wisp of haze, a furrowed cloud line struck at a twenty degree angle beneath the face from right to left, as if to add an underline to the moon itself, “what a silly thing to do” I quip to myself, in a voice only I have ever heard, yes though, sound has slowly found a way back in to this since empty hall, as the blanket of snow retreats, lawns revealed peeking groggy gates, “ten more minutes mom”, “well, you have ’til march” (which is coming soon, certainly the next number to come up at the deli counter for order), what a strange year this has been, could I have prophesied such an entangled ride? no, for surely not, but here we are, on the promising precipice of another spring, as my family still mourns the king, and there is no natural ascension to the throne known, no writ of delegation, time will take care of that coronation, I suppose, so I wait, I have learned to have more patience these days but time still seems to roll over at break-neck pace, I can feel the itch and twitch of the hand moving, listening closely I can hear the gears turning in ever-forward motion, there is no pause, no rest, save that- one, there is no pause, just little valleys like these moments, like these when I sit among the trees pretending to be, waiting for them to bloom again, to show me the way, as ever seasons to better days – ahead. and this brings the calms of psalms, to the house of my residing soul.

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(a stream of consciousness post)

slide…

the way to calm the mind, we all have our buttons, as much as I try, as much as I know myself, I still slide down that path to frustration and anger, mostly with the way other people deal with world, anathema is the word, and regardless of my self control, of my trying to accept and understand, slide, but how far is the goal I’ve found, this is not a fight you can actually win, you are the culprit within, but there is a tool for your reprisal, realization, to float back and observe the situation, focus on something bright, something other, something light, pause, the proverbial deep breath to brave the storm (as it shall pass).
slide…
so I step outside, literally and figuratively, find something else to focus on, to center on, to bring back myself to center being, and yes, even in this smothering cold winterness of near silence, providence shall provide, if you just look, and not nearly long did I spy, my own private glacier does flow, in front of my eyes, or at least a sculpture made in the random ways of the world, for four billion years this took, and here it is, presented, just for me, to remark inside at the wonder, I know the chemistry, but the random miracal-ity is what overflows within me, joy rising, now my trance, tracing down the droplets as they travel methodically down the form, around the horns, the strange angles, the sound of the drips that make their way to the ground off ends, tapping on the backs of others of their kind they have now found, and those that froze, to become those delicate tips, mocking gravity herself – for now, and all the little rays of light, bouncing in and around, suddenly my slide, the slide… is no where to be found.