Reading through many old favorite books to find new thoughts hiding in old pages. I am between events, just existing each day for popcorn and wine in the afternoon among the fertility of summer. We can find much to say….and even make up new words to hide the clichés. Lazy on the trail I pause for the audio and visual aspects of this world to fill me up again and push me forward.
While awaiting my husband and dog’s return from their walk I looked up at the church roof, across the weeds and gravestones of the cemetery, and saw two vultures landing on the peak of the edifice. They were just tucking in their wings, settling together, and then stroking the other’s beak with their own. Black against the white slant of the old roof, they stood out even more dramatically than the Springtime colors around them. Were they courting? resting? perched for my admiration or their own admiration of each other? One edged along the line of building a way and spread wings out again to full length. How could the other resist this proud display of self? How could I?
The Viking muscle is harder to cut than wood gone to petrification. Although snow can melt under flame, the sword is strengthened in this land of Midnight Sun. Sun, the greatest fire, fills the goblets of the warriors. They drink red heat and morph into dragons. We flutter lightly against their wings’ flap. We love their majesty. They love our adoration. It is not the promise of another world, eternal. Their world and the world of those who guide them ends. No salvation, but plenty of drama.
Stephen Hawking’s mind took a walk awhile ago into the vastness of Time and his body said:”Wait for me!” and so they left . I waved goodbye, but what was my small wave against his next great adventure. He had completely left us high and dry without his droll wisdom to sustain the lives we still must lead. I did not even get the chance to thank him for how he opened my head and let the cosmos in. Now I think he has seen more of it, but he won’t be coming back to share it. We must learn the way to follow after when it is our cue, not to a heaven of angels, but into a night of stars, comets, and black holes whirling around in eternal dance.
International Women’s Day has come around again, and we still sigh over all the fights left to win about having our sex enjoy a full and happy life. I sometimes despair when I see social media picture women as objects. The women themselves enjoy being objectified. Breasts falling out of tops, skirts so short they might as well not exist, and more paint than da Vinci applied to the Mona Lisa.
We should be painting up our minds, and taking the gaze of others off trivia . There is nothing wrong with physical beauty, but it should not be the center of the admiration.
I enjoy so much of my life now that I have said adieu to superficial estimates. I like women so much more when life is not a competition. And I also like my husband and son more when they can appreciate the beautiful mind as well as a beautiful body.
The sky is blue today. Tomorrow? Clouds? Snow? It’s still the same world….just how you live in it.
I have news fatigue. This week makes my head spin….sometimes completely around. Dreamers and Russians and (so sadly) School Shootings. Mental illness and assault rifles. Food stamps transformed into cans of food. We cry and laugh and gnash our teeth in anger. No one told me one week could make me long for life on a desert island with not even the message of a ship in a bottle washing up.
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