Jane is on vacation in New Mexico this week so we don't share our morning talk and write and I find myself a bit discombobulated at the beginning of the day. I realize also when things are so well with me, I move sometimes into a place of feeling very fragile, of not wanting anything to change, even though I know that is impossible, and change, for me, is usually positive. Anyway, I began this poem in a place of wanting to "hold" this place, and fortunately, I moved on through, since even stones change or are changed, a wee bit every day. Would we really want it any other way?
A Nobody Day
Today I don’t want to be special.
I don’t want to be the stone picked up from the path
or beach, and placed on a window sill
or piled with other chosen stones in a work of art.
I want to be invisible, observing, unaffecting,
but even the worm has its work underground,
roots are constantly moving in and out,
churning earth and water like a ferris wheel
or merry-go-round.
Why do I want to be an empty chart
for just one day?
My life is rich, children doing well,
family a loving, buzzing hive.
I don’t want to move one little bit,
attract any force that might nudge one painful hit.
I don’t want to feel the wounds
that are part of this bubbling circus I love.
Today I want to sit inside a ball
and, yet, already I see a friendly face
heading my way with a pin
to pop this impossible mood.
Connection is
the way we live, work, play.
Though the sun is generous, tossing light at the moon,
she tries to keep her backside hidden from those of us,
who undeterred, poke, probe, inspect,
and open a view of her 360 degrees around.
Hmmm! Choose, pick, enlist, and circle me.
I’m back.