Thursday, June 08, 2006

scarlett

i've had nothing to say, that is why i've not posted. i am well, i am well. thank you for your concern.

sometimes sleep is not what we need, but truth. i've been walking around with a great burden of truth upon me, that i need to unload.

i'll be taking my first trip to the city. possibly saturday to hear a poet read. but most likely tuesday when my girl and i get to tour the lincoln center and watch a ballet rehearsal. the pianist will escort us there so we don't get utterly lost. (which, as you well know, is entirely possible with me).

i was sitting at the library reading yesterday, it seems there is so much to do around my apt lately, the only way i get to read is to leave. sadly.

so i'm sitting there in a chair surrounded by plate glass windows. the trees are lush with green leaves, it rained heavily yesterday, so they were dancing in the breezes, glistening with life. seeds wafting down from high up.

i am enamoured of trees out here. i keep trying to get through this book i'm reading, but even yesterday, i was mesmerized by the trees. waving so gently in the breeze. i've never seen trees like these. and they do a number on you if you let them. they are utterly divine.

i was sitting two stories up, so the birds would light upon branches and there i'd be, right even with them. it was delightful. a cardinal caught my attention yesterday. i wondered if he gets goaded by lesser birds, those of blander colour. less demaning of the eye. less breathtaking.

i notice the little sparrows often look at me with serious eyes, under their heavy black brows. questioning. wondering. watching.

this cardinal flitted higher and higher, until he flew away, finally.

it made me wonder if being so lavishly adorned, being so magnificent is a burden.

i envied those little birds yesterday because i wanted to sit out in the rain storm and enjoy it. but i sat in the air conditioned library.

rain strikes me as one of the ways God touches us. think about it, it is the only substance which runs down our bodies tangibly, whenever it pleases. no place is off limits to the raindrop. it goes where it will. comes and stays as long as it pleases.

it sometimes feels to me like the very fingers of God traversing my body.

when i went to the ren faire last year, it was pouring rain. i had actually hoped and prayed for it to rain. for me to be able to walk in drenching rain and have it be okay. and it was. i was soaked through and i loved it. i just kept walking the grounds and didn't stop. it was muddy, and slippery, very exciting.

what can i say, i'm a cheap date.

so yesterday i wanted to walk to the library, and get soaked through. but it was cool. and my beloved advised against it. i drove. i do have my daughter to consider, which is something i must remind myself. though she probably would have liked getting soaked through too.

i notice that when i'm trying to avoid the rain, to keep from getting wet, driving, or using umbrellas (which i don't anymore), that the rain becomes a nuisance. something so easily equated with the touch of God becomes something i run and hide from. so as not to get wet.

my black and white thinking has been problematic all my life. but perhaps that will change some day.

i've nothing else to say so i'll leave off here. peace.

2 comments:

Miss Audrey said...

Suz,

You absolutely amaze me, and I am so glad! And inspired! It makes me feel like I am so not alone in my wonderful wandering a rounds in my mind. Not last night, but the night before, I had to force myself into my nice warm cozy bed. I was over-heated from a very long day and it was starting to storm outside.

Everything within me wanted to go outside and rest in my hammock and enjoy the thunder and the storm. I wanted to get soaked, and even a little spooked I am sure, had I actually gone outside. But alas, I knew, it was time to go to bed!

I spent a week in Louisiana one time. Every day during the monsoon I got soaking wet. It was glorious! I would wear long flowing skirts and sandles and kick off my shoes when the rain came and dance in merriment and I've never felt so alive! Your analogy of hiding under the umbrella is so true. I have been guilty. I love the thought of the Lord caressing us with the rain. It relays such a silent beauty.

I loved the story of the cardinal. I have a big blue jay that is rather at home at my house. I was laying in my hammock for just a little while yesterday afternoon and "big blue" flew in the tree right above me and landed on a branch just a bit over my head and he just looked at me. I couldn't see him as well as you described your cardinal and sparrows, but he looked right at me just the same.

It's good to know that you are well, as I am also.

siouxsiepoet said...

yes audrey, there is something wonderful about finding kindred spirits, eh? i am grateful for you.

my sister writes me this, we are cut from the same cloth:

I wholeheartedly agree! I love the rain, and have not used an umbrella for years. It reminds me of being a child again. Not caring if I get wet. Not caring what it does to my hair. The innocence and impetuousness of it all..... I want to run and to splash. Not be so serious for just a few moments until I get to the car, or the house, or whatever. It makes me want to dance in it. Can you imagine, me? Dance! Only the rain could do that. It takes me back. It reminds me of innocence lost.....

I have missed talking to you. I am sorry I have not been home. We have been just running and running. Dentist appointments, ballet, Just a couple more weeks of all this I tell myself. Then I can relax. I hope to spend lots of time at the beach. I hope to be a kid a little bit again. Now that * is older and I can not be so serious.

* and I seriously miss the trees and the birds. Beautiful birds. Everywhere. There are no such beautiful sights out here save the Hawk we've seen land twice this week in our backyard trees. That was cool. He was so close to us. We were sitting out there.... Amazing. But not much rivals the beautiful blue jays and Cardinals. So striking. And did you know that the trees are healing. There has been research done in hospitals and they have found that those with a view of nature recover much more rapidly and happily than those without it. There is something healing in the movement of the leaves. I miss that too. We have no swinging leaves here sadly. Unless I go outside, which I wont. So enjoy it!