It was a nice idea I had to not talk about my own thoughts or views today but it didn’t happen; no apologies, no one needed to hear and maybe I needed to say it, so I am not sorry about not keeping my plan, and I listened, which was more important to me than that.
I completed the sketch I started with my long sought out pencil and sharpener for painting my next canvas. I also secretly (now not a secret) hope to feel ready soon to paint the very big canvas for above my bed.
I made many very satisfying revisions to my own latest poems throughout the day and left a lawyer a message about copyright info quotes.
Sometimes when I am ready for sleep, I will feel the movement of hands that feel like May’s and her spirit feels near too, the blanket around me being adjusted just a little and then pat, pat upon me like, ‘There, rest well.’
I feel her amused with this as she knows that I am an adult but may find me precious.
A few weeks later after I’d begun reading her book, I’d read of the dream she’d written about in a prose poem in which a Greek god had rocked her in her sleep and then dropped her, and I felt like she’d rocked me some night after I’d found first poetry book, Fleurs de Reve and hadn’t yet gotten to the part about that dream of hers. It felt like she had been swaying me affectionately and amusedly and as if a funny thing to her.
Something That Scared Me
I personally really enjoy these little mystical experiences of mine, although I am aware some find them scary and I share with sensitivity, but something scared me that I’d heard recently: Someone said that some girls have been camping outside Justin Bieber’s house all night and want him to hug them and won’t go home and he doesn’t want them to do that. Now I don’t have any particular affection towards Justin Bieber, although I like a few of his songs and sound, but this is disturbing and is probably the only thing that scared me this year like this. (Of course I’ll find things unfairly unfortunate, unacceptable, disastrous, and unjust, and these second things are a different version of unpleasant and are worse.)
But this moon that night (a recent one) was such a sight…so gold, beaming with the face of someone in love, not needing to drop other joys or their identity for it, but find that their small troubles pale in comparison to it, and there the moon was, glowing; I greeted it on the other side of the window with my appreciative eyes.
It is about to rain and I want this storm, send rain for the places in drought or need it, I’ve asked, and I need this one now.
Earlier today: I Will Be Quiet So I Can Hear You