Did you hear the coyote this morning? I enjoy knowing creatures wonder about. Yesterday a deer stood still by the shop. So graceful, the leap back to forest safety. What we don’t see lies around us. We are never alone.
Abbe’s Notes – Quick morning writes that begin before the sun rises and while the world sleeps.
Nina Simone believed freedom was a life without fear. Some believe that choice defines freedom. And others are imprisoned by too many choices and no ability to decide. Frozen. Was there a choice with cancer? Was there fear? Was there freedom to understand within the fear? Were we/you robbed?
To stay, to leave, to be present. Facing what is given to us, might be bravery. But is freedom a choice? Does this equate to power or powerlessness?
Mornings spoken, the language of birds awaken with the sun. Layered shades of green, dark with new light. The aroma of brewed coffee topped with steamed milk. Dressed in summer fare, I step out into the dawn of day.
I want to write where you are and how you feel, yet I don’t really know. So I make up a story. I observe. I love. Hold my hand so I can read the curve of your palm.
Deep breath. Taking in the smells of wild gardens. Decisions about life. Whiffs of worn dirt. Plow. Poem not completed.
June 15, 2015
Your birthday weekend. Green jungles, lush love.
When I’m 64, will you still love me… The question ponders physical change, the process of aging. The question ponders hope, the assurance of love’s endurance. The question ponders the future mixed in with memories of the one we have chosen. 64 arrived. There is no question.