Some Days
The dark day came with
news of a suicide attempt,
a head-on collision, a car full of children,
an ER visit with Gramp, pneumonia. Again.
This followed a sunny Mother's day featuring
extra-lemony hollindase dripping over
bacon-y benedicts before mountain biking
through early woodland wildflowers.
Before that a purple day,
a Friday, with the weeks projects polished
we celebrated a 52nd birthday with
fine whiskey, prosecco, red curry and naan.
Dull days with no suprises
that leave me empty and longing follow
raging days like whitewater
that discombobulate but sometimes thrill, then
heavy days under a blanket of sadness and fog
that seem like they will last forever preceed
fleeting days like a hummingbird sipping joy,
from those wildflowers, the spring ephemerals.
Some days, my favorites, are all of the above.
Last night the May wind whipped and swirled,
thunder puréed my dreams of longing, and when
torrents of rain washed away yesterday,
I awoke to cool, clear potential. As you can tell, the spring has brought some drama, but thankfully, this time, all good has come from it. Forgive my sporadic posts, I'm working on a long and messy essay - the working title is Freedom from Fear versus Fear of Freedom. Coming soon! In the meantime, you can check out my Pastry's Alter-Ego, my latest article for recipes that would be perfect for your first farmer's market finds accompanied by Paulette Phlipot's stunning photography.
Beautiful piece, Sue. The beauty of being indeed. XOXO