Still tired. Months of uncertainty taking their toll.
But, I’ve moved beyond Mamma Mia and Bridget Jones to take solace in paint chips and poetry.
So, tonight, an offering from Louise Gluck:
Snowdrops
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring–afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joyin the raw wind of the new world.
Louise Gluck
The Wild Iris
wonderful exchange 
Awake I dream,
Asleep I dream,
but wait
I am my dream,
my life, hopes, fears
laid bare before me
Am I lost?
No, I am found
Just a wee thing off the top of my head which makes me think I read this somewhere but I don’t have a photographic memory. Maybe I should do a writing course?!?!? I certainly need lessons in punctuation 🙂
I could imagine you liking a writing course. But not one that had much to do with punctuation…
Lovely. And reminds me a bit of Mary Oliver. Whom I think is proving my simplicity. But I don’t know much Louis Gluck, perhaps I need to look into this. Hmm. . . I wonder what my supervisor would say if I gave up theology for Lent?
“Amen”?