Good Morning!!

I feel "normal" after my restful weekend, and so it felt odd this morning to wake and feel the lack of hair, and to look in the mirror and see the same lack of hair. In my dreams, I have hair.  I know I have said I have hair, and I do, but there is hair, a downy covering, and there is something that flows, and I am still waiting for a flow. This is not yet something the wind can lift and whirl. 

William Stafford is the poet I am attracted to in the moment. I like this poem, because I feel like in the shared messages of this blog we are together in knowing the explore.


SENDING THESE MESSAGES

    Over these writings I bend my head.
    Now you are considering them. If you
    turn away I will look up: a bridge
    that was there will be gone.
    For the rest of your life I will stand here,
    reaching across.

    If these writings can bring a turn
    or an echo that touches you - maybe
    a face, a slant, a tune - you will stop
    too and bend over them. When you
    look up, your thought will reach
    wherever I am.

    I know it is strange. And there's no measure
    for this. The only connection we make
    is like a twinge when sometimes they change
    the beat in music, and we sprawl with it
    and hear another world for a minute
    that is almost there.