This is post #2 for today. The first one was “Beginnings With Long Ago Cereal and Yoga.”
I planned to read a lot of poetry. But then the snow began to fall and changed my desire. I made tea. I brought the letter I received yesterday from my friend Kira to the table— it is nice to have the letter just here. So my eyes wanted to watch the snow and just listen to songs, eyes and ears, mind and heart.
I haven’t read poems today but I’ve read words I’ve cherished. And there are songs to hear and snow to see.
I was happy I remembered I wanted to post today my current favorite singer-songwriter, Lisa Hannigan (in voice, lyrics, and music) who also inspires me to write.
I am also happy to say I have a title for my poetry book since the last day of January. I’ve heard words in poetry and music recently that have pleasantly reminded me of that.
Little injuries nicely healing, and a breaking: I was sad when a jar of honey came falling out of my tea cabinet and broke my grandma’s glass teapot on the counter, but was very grateful no glass fell on the floor or touched anyone. I don’t store my honey in that cabinet anymore as I used to since teas alone fit better. Had forgotten that newer plan but now I know, and I got a glass teapot that is just as lovely (shown above.)
I wrote this just now:
These plates and cups have no chips, but my heart like the heart of all hearts and all the hearts of the world, has a chip where the water splashes within. it is a smooth chip that is shaped like a seashell, and it clings to a gem; i am not sure if i know how to swim, but it is the place where i dive in sparkling and begin. it is a chip that is smooth and not jagged; the water will not come crashing in. a candle burns nearby that is florally-scented of ancient times, so the chip is colored an endless peach; it is colored again, has never lost the peach; sweet and sad as dew and rain, it is now made new as any green.