Flock
Blossoming
It may be foolish of me, at my age and in my current condition, but I hang on to the hope that the pain of this effort is leading somewhere: renewal, new purpose, or at the very least, a blossoming.
Monday Mood: Stretched too far
Saturday we packed up the garage (with help). Dusty, dirty, and exhausting.
Sunday we attended and then hosted a farewell party for our Ukrainian roommate, who is going back to Ukraine despite all our protests. Yes, two separate gatherings. Heart wrenching.
This morning, we visited our new apartment building to get set up with a storage room and took a load of stuff to charity. I’m asleep on my feet.
I feel just like the tree in this photo. Stretched beyond.
Tomorrow, some of the furniture moves out. Hope I manage to stay upright.
Let Me Sleep
Like an orphaned tree
shivering in a coat of frost
my soul wanders
dreamless, alone
a nobody, nowhere
in the pre-dawn chill.
Beckoned by first light
body twisting wakens
Consciousness clings
to desolate slumber
then, reluctantly
reality brings me home.
(Image my own)
Spellbound
Discovery
Does life ever turn out the way we expected? I doubt it. A smooth ride would only serve to make us dull and unsympathetic beings.
I didn’t know that I had the ability to crawl out of darkness until I did. When illness knocked me off my feet, I had the reassurance of knowing I’d defeated worse.
The future is unknown, and I trust that I am equipped to handle whatever comes my way.
Monday’s Mood: Golden
The view outside my window this morning is pure gold. It’s our Canadian Thanksgiving and my mood matches the tone.
The warmth of family coming together, the gift of thoughtful gestures from friends, the wonder of Nature letting go in a blaze of colour: all golden.
Hope you are able to find the gold in your day.
What Force Is This?
Indomitable
the ghost
that haunts me
cat-like ferocity
shredding pragmatism
I tear at the veil
obscuring source
Dream goddess
shaking complacency
Primal wisdom
waking up.
(Image my own)
Torch
Ducks In a Row
I’m trying to be practical and methodical about the upcoming move, but emotions cloud the process. I fluctuate between excitement and trepidation. Moving, after all, does require letting go.
We’ve been going through the boxes in storage – things we’ve moved from house to house, and seldom looked at. Ric found his mother’s silver serving utensils and has been paralyzed for a day contemplating what to do about them. I suggest he should save them for his next wife, in case she likes polishing.
Thank goodness for timelines and lists. It forces us to stay on track. Must keep those ducks in a row.
