Isnt it plain the sheets of moss, except that
they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about

spiritual patience? Isn't it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?

Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.

Every morning, so far, I'm alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of darkness
and burst up into the sky--as though

all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.

Mary Oliver (naturally)


Send my letters to the park.

On sunny days we sit on Peter Pan's outpost and read aloud from our favorite books.
Sailboats! Tugboats! A barge!
The joys of 60 degrees in February.


Buna would tell me something like this

"Păzeşte-ţi inima mai mult de cît orice, căci din ea ies izvoarele vieţii"

...your precious, precious heart is the wellspring of life and you need to protect it.


yellow buttons.

I will try.
I will step from the house to see what I see
and hear and I will praise it.
Mary Oliver

It's raining so perfectly outside, and my soundtrack is full of songs about the sea. I plan on spending the day with books and a laughing friend. Today I'm remembering sweetness and soundness. I took a long walk this morning, and felt momentum again, a bearing. I've got yellow buttons in a glass on my desk, and I'm thinking that it's okay for life to move on.


She said give it air and sun. Don't pick at it, let it heal.