i heard it

sometimese i hear a poem and it gets away from me.

this happened yesterday as i pulled into my yoga class parking lot. i could feel the poem. another one of those women flying across the room poems. and i let it speak to me. i had music on, kurtis lamkin, and his kora picking stirs the deep places in me. so i kept my eyes closed and listened.

then my belly dance instructor tapped my shoulder to say hello. i opened my eyes and smiled. the moment was gone.

it is that elusive kids. that quick as lighting. that hard to grasp.

i know the poem will come again, and i will wait for it. because i don't chase them down. i don't sit with a pen and sweat over a page and try to manufacture anything. when that poem works up enough strength and courage (or perhaps it's the other way around), i will hear it, see it, feel it again.

until then, i push it from my conscious mind. i let it go. i trust it will not be gone forever.

seems i do a lot of that.

the moments, gentle as a whisper that i've collected like so many butterflies.

the butterflies are scarce this summer and the ones i see are on some rapid fire mission to get to wherever they are going.

i found a patch of thistle and crouched down beside it, my daughter riding in the outdoor arena, and it was blazing hot. the thistle was beside a shadow, long and lean. the outdoor lights. i stood in the rectangular square of the light box, and saw the honeybees digging deep into the thistle as if scavanging for something.

i got right down to their level, inches away and watched them work.

then a cabbage white appeared briefly and wafted away. i wished it wouldn't go.

but the bees kept on, digging and doing whatever it is they do.

and i was grateful for a moment in their presence.

and there, in the weeds, beside the arena, the longe whip my girl's instructor needed. they were doing a balance lesson and the old black mare, velvet, would slam on the breaks, nearly toppling my girl. (which only added to the skill level, if you ask me), so nicole had to chase her using the longe line end to keep her moving at a relatively consistent pace. my girl's hands on her head or out to the side when velvet would hiccup in her pace.

i produced the whip from the weeds and nicole had an easier time of it too, since it was sweltering in the sun.

i'm grateful bucky and prince have been moved to a paddock with trees. where they were offered no shade, but now, other horses are locked into the heat of day without shade. and nicole says,

that's risky.

when i ask her how one can leave horses out without shade.

but bucky and prince are out all the time, regardless, so i'm glad they have a few trees to duck under if they need them.

i work today, then another day off. i've needed the rest. but it is nearly my last before the rush and hurry of school. i work eight of the next ten days. get off at midnight, before i have to leave home for the airport at 5am, maybe i'll just sleep on the plane. trouble is, i can't sleep on planes.

and i'm there to help with the babies. i hope we get to rest a bit. i imagine it will be well. and school starts while i'm there. when i return, i'm sure my boss will work me a lot. and i've got bills, so i'm grateful. it's a pace i'd been working toward last year, but now, it's here. and i hope i'm ready.