tiny notebook musings II
a few more thoughts pulled from the tiny notebook I carry around for little thoughts & observations
• • five • •
It was a nice moon last night, sitting low behind the treetops. Almost pink in color. I wished it wasn't so cold outside, so I could have enjoyed it from the porch. Next time, I'll shut off the kitchen lights and try to sit in silence with it.
Sounds easy enough...though, I hate to be alone with my thoughts. God, maybe I should reflect on that for a bit. The quiet's so achingly loud.
• • six • •
The image of me warps like sunshine through waves - like melting glass. I think I know myself, until I catch a glimpse of her reflected back from another person. I can see, in that moment, the way I distort in them (
through them).
Is this just part of it? How do I reconcile all of the funhouse-mirror fractals that exist outside of me? And who, after all this time, can remember the original?
• • seven • •
The days go faster. I'd say it's the darkness, but it happens in daylight, too. Things feel messy - incomplete. Feels like dominos falling together in a chain of disruption.
Not disaster, mind you. We're off-course, but ship is still above water. I roll in and out of a wave, each one cresting as a new possibility, and sometimes I even see little specks of green on the horizon.
• • eight • •
A pair of crows, dark against the winter-pale grass. I think of the nursery rhyme: one for sorrow, two for joy.
More often than not, I see only one crow - and yet, I am always convinced that there is another one just out of sight. A wish; a longing, maybe.
I'm willing joy into existence in the imagined flutter of wings beyond the tree line.