Posts Tagged ‘wishes’

Adagio*

July 18, 2017

*My internet has been down for a day and a half.  Just a teensy bit annoying.  So I wrote a poem yesterday and it’s my post for yesterday.  I will have more adventures for you later.

Enjoy!

 

Adagio

 

Slowly, softly, gently.

There is this timelessness about you.

Timely, too, in the way you have ghost shipped

My heart.

I knew you.

Just there.

In the periphery of my eyesight

Calm and controlled, together, tight, coiled like a

Clock spring and shining like newly minted metal.

You would have been hot to my touch had I

Dared reach for you.

Instead.

I left you.

Again and again.

What fool am I?

Riding through the fog misted park with the press of

Your shimmering self-reflecting back at me.

It took such time.

Ages of it.

Mountains of it.

Pools of it.

To let you in.

And when I finally realized, it was you, it had been you all this time,

You so patiently patient were no longer, it was too late.

And yet.

You gave me one last chance, one more moment

Of your precious, precious time.

And all the world melted into your eyes—

Infinite and wise.

Bespoken and beholden with the burden of

Minutes, seconds, the tick tock of impatience

The sleep of a 1,000 years, the tales of many nights

Collapsed

And now.

I wait for you.

Carving out whatever time,

Soft.

Sweet.

Slow.

As you can bear to let me have.

The bubble of joy I find myself in with you,

Absconds with alarms and whistles, time refuses

If only for moment, to march on when

You kiss me.

Touch me.

Call out to me.

Melting into timeless heaven with you.

And wishing when it is over that there was

Time again for more.

In this eternal longing.

Time to kiss your face, eyelids, cheekbones, and chest.

Time to kiss your collarbones, the palms of your hands.

Time to kiss the creases of your elbows.

Time again to see you.

Hold you.

Be with you.

Softly.

Gently.

Slowly.

Super Sonic Blog Post

September 21, 2015

I have no idea what I am going to say except that I am going to say it as fast as I can.

And.

I hope to be done within a certain time frame because I am up past my bedtime on a school night and really, I should just be getting under the covers.

But.

It seems wrong to not write a little.

To not wear my heart a tiny bit on my sleeve.

Did you see the moon set?

It was a glorious firebrand smoldering over the inky black sea.

Did you smell the bonfires on the beach?

I did.

It was a glorious day in San Francisco.

I spent a lot of it reading.

But I tried to get out a little and I gave myself breaks and no, I did not get as much done as I had thought or hoped.

I’m alright with this.

I’m ok to keep doing a little in the morning before work and a little more at night before I go to bed or before I blog.

I am ok to let myself have a little life experience.

Go for a ride in a car.

See a room.

Hang out with my fellows.

Get my God on.

And.

Commune with the beach and the waves and the stars.

I saw two shooting stars tonight.

I wished for the same thing on each one.

“I wish to stay sober.”

I say it soft, under my breath, in the dark shadow of my heart, the dreamsicle orange of the moon descending with love below the horizon of my tender sweet soul self.

The first one I saw I almost wasn’t sure was a shooting star, but it had the trace of tail and was bright enough that I was certain.

The second one made me gasp out loud, it was long and low and the tail was bright orange.

It was an emissary.

Promise of bright things to come.

Love.

Taking care of myself.

Doing my reading.

Graduate school.

Dreams of travel and shoes and ships and sealing wax.

Cabbages and kings.

Poetry and nursery rhymes and the sound of the ocean crashing just beneath the beach line of dunes.

No.

I did not do what I set out to do this weekend and yet I had a fabulous weekend.

A weekend that went by so fast that I cannot believe it is Sunday night and time for me to wrap it all up tidy in a neat bow of words and images and thoughts and soul strivings and stirrings.

I was flexible this weekend.

I gave myself allowance to do and be and see and be seen and that has to happen in my life just as much as the work or the work won’t be worthwhile and all I am doing is living to work.

Rather.

I want to work to live and give myself a little allowance sometimes to play.

It is almost as though I am convincing myself that I have this leeway, this lassitude, this wayward time with time.

And.

I do.

I am efficient.

I am quick.

I will have to work a lot next weekend.

I have a project with another classmate that I have to prepare for and I don’t want to leave her in the lurch with the work.

But.

I also realized today when I looked over the syllabus for the one class I dread the work the most, my Human Development class, that I don’t have to have the paper done for that class until October 13th rather than the 2nd.

I have a little tiny bit more time.

I do have to be honorable and not screw my partner and get to the reading so I can properly outline the chapter that we are presenting to the class, but I can see that it will happen.

Little bits and pieces at a time.

My first appointment on the day was late, and so I read a few pages there.

I got up about 15 minutes before my alarm went off, so that added another quarter of an hour this morning.

I read for an hour after my lady bug left my house.

I made lunch at home and read.

I read after lunch.

I checked in with my person and told him what was happening in my heart.

No expectations.

Going slow.

Staying in the present moment.

I read some more.

I went up to the corner store and bought a few household things I needed to get.

I came home and read more.

I got a ping and headed out the door to do the deal in Mill Valley.

Did you see the bridge today?

Did you see the clear skies?

Did you stop at Fort Point because it was too irresistible to not stop?

I did.

How grateful am I to live in such tremendous beauty.

The sumptuous bay sparkling and spun with boats and cargo ships, yachts, sail boats, windsurfers, seals, seagulls, waves, sunshine.

Rolling into Marin.

The hills sweeping, swept with Eucalyptus and the warmth of a day that spells all that is summer and sexy and San Francisco and if it were like this all year round it would be even more expensive to live in.

And when the sun shines.

I have to make hay, I have to let my skin soak it in.

I ate my lunch outside today in the back yard, blissed out with the warmth and the happy sounds of the neighborhood.

I did not read my stuff outdoors, it’s too distracting and too easy to just lift my face skyward then down into the pages of the text and yes, I could have read more, but I let my heart be my guide and look.

Look at that.

I am happy.

Joyous.

Free.

And just made it in under the wire to get enough sleep to get up and do it all over again tomorrow.

And.

Go to my job too.

Life.

It is good.

Full as fuck.

But so good.

SERIOUSLY.

When You Wish Upon A Star

January 7, 2015

A falling star at that.

I saw the glowing ember descending heavens above me as I rode my bicycle home through the cold air of the park, I immediately wished.

Love and sobriety.

I wish for love.

I wish to stay sober.

Those have pretty much been my wishes for over the last few years and as I sneak closer to a decade of time I am again overcome by a feeling of wonder and awe at where my life has taken me and the things that I have gotten to do.

I suspect that there is more to come.

I used to wish with obsessive habit on the first star of the evening.

Or the new moon, as seen over my left shoulder.

I almost always would look up, up, up, scanning the still glowing horizon after the sun had set over Twin Peaks, searching for that first evening star upon which I would wish.

I wish for sobriety.

It’s a wish that has been granted every day now for a little bit of time.

It’s not the wish I thought I would be making when I was a little girl and heard about wishing on the first star of the evening.

Star light.

Star bright.

First star I see tonight.

I wish I may.

I wish I might.

Make the wish.

I wish tonight.

I wish to stay sober.

The wish is a good wish to make.

For with it come all manner of good things.

I would not have the life that I live or the principles I live by without having been granted this wish.

I used to wish for money, fame, notoriety (I mean, perhaps not consciously, but I like the idea, even still of being notorious), love, but not the kind of love that I get in spades every day, I was fantasizing about a type of romantic love, someone who would sweep in and save me from myself and my crazy life.

I like my crazy life today.

It’s much more sane than one would think.

Jam packed with stuff too.

I was sitting in a room, listening to wisdom and experience and solution and my eyes closed and I could have just drifted right off.

Today was a full day.

Lots of cooking and laundry, parks, three different park outings, one run to Lucca Ravioli, two runs to the Whole Foods Market on Valencia Street (which is not a Whole Food Market at all, but a little mom and pop where the owner and the clerks know me and the boys by name), cooking for the house–today I made turkey meatballs and spaghetti, a big salad, and steamed cauliflower with olive oil and garlic, picking up some tailoring from the laundrette, a trip to the Eco Center on 17th, and the normal nap time, snack time, lunch time, dinner time, bath time routine of the boys.

Let’s add to my day an hour and a half bicycle commute.

Aka my urban gym routine.

I always get a good giggle when I see ladies at the park doing the boot camps.

Listen, I want to tell them, get a job that is a half hour to 45 minute commute on bicycle, there’s your cardio, then add hauling around a 2 and a half-year old for legs and upper arms, and finish with pushing a double stroller about the Mission with a four and a half-year old in tow for stamina and strength training.

You’ll tighten up real quick.

I promise.

In addition to the commute, I got up early and yes, I wrote.

I mean, I always write and I am writing now and I am happy to be making a concerted effort to be doing the writing, but I really am seeing how important it is to keep me balanced and in good harmony with the world about me.

How it lets me observe things that I would not necessarily see if I was buried in social media or surfing the internet all day.

I would miss out on observing the life about me.

Like the sun reflecting off the back windows of the house behind my in-law in the morning.

I don’t have much morning light, but the western facing windows of the neighbors at a certain time each morning, reflect into my studio a blaze of warm golden sunlight.

This morning I was sitting, eating my oatmeal with pink lady apple chopped up into it and wild blue berries, sipping my pour over Stumptown coffee (no Holler Mountain today, the store was sold out, but I tried a new blend that might make a run for the money shot–Indonesia Bies Penantan–clove, white pepper, cola, prune, and brown sugar accents) and the light blew up the spider plant I have hanging in the corner with the most beautiful light.

The plant was glowing and shimmering and almost transcendental with light.

That’s God, I thought.

I mean, everything is God, in my opinion, but that was a special God shot indeed.

Every home I have had, since I have had a home in which I have consciously chosen to decorate and nest in, since I was a sophomore in high school and took over the big room in the house in Windsor, has had a spider plant in it.

I have changed and I continue to change, but there is an epicenter of myself, a core being that has a lot of little tiny nuisances that have stayed with me down the years.

I still wish upon stars.

I still sing along to the lyrics on the radio.

And sometimes I actually know the lyrics to said songs.

I still dance like, mostly, no one is looking.

I still like to write.

Hopefully the writing has gotten better, but I do know that there is voice, a persona, a verbosity, or tendency toward, that I have always had, I can see it here and there and it speckles my writing like the stars in the warm summer sky over the orchard when I used to walk back there in the grass at night, longing for something that I knew not what it was.

Love.

And sobriety.

They are both the same thing.

I couldn’t have one without the other.

I’ve been wishing on stars for a very long time.

It was only recently, though, that I realized.

I have been given my wish from the very first time I wished upon a star.

Falling or otherwise.

My wish has always been heard.

I am loved.

 


%d bloggers like this: