Ah, we are safely back in our tidy little hideaway in the Nations Nashville. Heavy sigh. Deep breath. Lungs full of gratitude for both the gift of travel and the treasure of home.
I don't know if I believe in jet lag.
It's 5:42 Central Daylight Saving Time. What are we saving? The daylight doesn't care.
We have been on terra firma in Nashville for around 32 hours and I'm up feeling pretty durned good at right around my usual time to arise. I did my ~40 yoga breaths quietly in bed, stretched, spent some time reflecting on whatever I reflected upon, and quietly arose, slipped on my royal blue cotton tee sleepshirt, and padded into my studio to lay down a poem. I suppose our nearly three weeks in Spain has enriched my connection with words and with whatever it is inside me that shapes my use of them.
Don't get me wrong, I'm usually pretty connected, but...
If I have learned
anything
it is this:
Every living being
with whom I have shared love
in any way
has remained,
is with me now
in my memory,
in my heart, in my...
what is that? My soul?
Those whom I have hated
are nothing,
are gone,
are wisps,
are past
wrong turns,
wrong items
on my life's
long
list.
If I have learned
anything
it is this.
Ahem. Well. There's that. This little ditty came to me while I contemplated the old dog who had slowly arisen and made his way to the bedroom rug from his time asleep safely between my love and me. I then (and autonomically) moved closer to her beneath the sheets and she cupped her hand into mine again without willing the touch, just fingers to fingers drawn together like soft flesh and bone magnets. I continued breathing and laid awash with love, just breathing and loving, giving and receiving precisely like inhaling and exhaling, like love. The word "living" is the only correction I made to it, considering, as I should, of course, that old dog, and other loves not "human".
And yes, I will use as many commas as I would like. They are necessary to indicate the meter. In case you've forgotten, my poetry (and much of my prose) must be read aloud to really work. It's a fault, a limitation, I know.
^^^^^^^^^@@@@@@@@^^^^^^^^^
Stay tuned. I'm thinking the next few posts will summarize our fantastical nearly three weeks in España.
"san sebastian", 2023, pencil on sketch paper, completed after a photo taken from Hotel Londes
