Musical Monday

Silent Sunday

Kind of a different story . . .

I've been feeling pretty stressed and kind of sad lately. I woke up today with this feeling of "why am I living in this strange city all by myself?"  So I decided to do the one thing guaranteed to cheer me up: go to the library (you had to see that coming if you've been reading this blog for any length of time!). Feeling that drastic measures were called for I figured I'd better go all out and head over to the Central branch. As usual, it worked and by the time I left I was feeling much better.

On my way home I drove past the State Capital Park and noticed all the roses blooming in the garden. On an impulse I stopped and spent about an hour walking around the park and admiring the roses. Yellow roses always make me think of my Mom because yellow was her favorite color and she liked yellow roses. While I was looking at the one in the picture, I happened to glance down and see the sign. This rose is called Gift of Life and was introduced in 1999. My Mom died in 1999 and, silly as it may sound, this just felt like some kind of sign to me. I sat down on the bench next to the rosebush and cried. My mother was not a demonstrative person but when I'd get upset sometimes she'd hold my hand. While I was sitting there crying I felt like she was with me holding my hand. And I felt like everything was really going to be ok and that she was telling me I hadn't made bad choices. (Shoot I'm crying again now!)

So I don't know . . . going to the library was pretty much an impulse. Driving home past the park was because the light changed so I turned onto that street. Stopping was an impulse and this rose was the first one whose sign I noticed. I guess they were all random chances but they combined to make me feel a lot better today!

Pictures (again!)

These are just a few pictures from my walk today. I don't know what the pink flowers in the top picture are. I was driving home yesterday and saw them so I walked down there today so I could get a picture. I think they're really pretty. I worry sometimes because I walk around and take pictures and some of them (obviously) are of other people's yards. I don't want them to think I'm being nosy or intrusive. I only focus on the flowers so I guess it's ok. If it were me I wouldn't care if someone was taking pictures of my flowers so I hope other people don't.

Musical Monday

Silent Sunday

Poetry Day

We Have Come to be Danced
by Jewel Mathieson

We have come to be danced
Not the pretty dance
Not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance
But the claw our way back into the belly
Of the sacred, sensual animal dance
The unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
The holding the precious moment in the palms
Of our hands and feet dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
But the wring the sadness from our skin dance
The blow the chip off our shoulder dance.
The slap the apology from our posture dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the monkey see, monkey do dance
One two dance like you
One two three, dance like me dance
but the grave robber, tomb stalker
Tearing scabs and scars open dance
The rub the rhythm raw against our soul dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle
But the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
Shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance
The strip us from our casings, return our wings
Sharpen our claws and tongues dance
The shed dead cells and slip into
The luminous skin of love dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
But the meeting of the trinity, the body breath and beat dance
The shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
The mother may I?
Yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance
The olly olly oxen free free free dance
The everyone can come to our heaven dance.

We have come to be danced
Where the kingdom’s collide
In the cathedral of flesh
To burn back into the light
To unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
To root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced

We Have Come.