Yesterday was a rest for me I actually kept, a solitary one that soon felt not so solitary. I thought of this musician Erik Satie I’d heard of many years ago and not at all since then. I liked his music better now and I loved this piano one of his, Gnossienne No. 7 and as I listened, I had the sudden thought that this one sounded like one the poet and writer, May might’ve liked very much too, (posts on this blog tagged ‘may ziadeh.’)
As I listened to the piano notes and their contemplative progression, I enjoyed seeing the sky across from me through the pines turn to blush and then drift back into blue and again to warm blush.
I didn’t know this musician Erik Satie’s bio before yesterday, but I learned then that he was a French composer and would’ve been creating music during the time when May was writing books and articles and playing piano herself; I’d learned before that she’d been educated at a French boarding school. I also realized this Gnossienne No. 7 was a favorite of mine too.
I wrote poems in April and May (was surprised there are seventeen) and these months have been the patient polishing and blossoming of them and most seem ready to submit to lit magazines. The last one received a title, finally after awhile and it was a nicely longer title than the others.
It looks like a storm could begin soon and the light, drizzling rain will fall harder.
If the electricity happens to go out today, I have paper books, pencils, paper, a pen, and paint, a pretty disc player and cds, tea, prayers, my cat Peeko curled up napping, dreams to unwind, ghosts and angels (I envisioned my missing sunglasses would’ve looked great on the poet Edna St. Vincent Millay and just then I found them! 😅✔️) and the moon (which is in Cancer now and very much so for me). The two poets mentioned here would’ve lived the same time in the early 1900s and in different countries.
I let my own uncertainties swirl around and settle with this tiny tea cup I will hold and the piano music I am about to hear again along with the homelike swish of the dishwasher and the washing machine.
I wish you’d feel my secret prayers.