i looked up last night and saw the moon. the dogwood tree around the corner of the house is blooming and there among its branches hung the moon and a few stars, as comfortably at home as those new blossoms; i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together, my favorite line ever in a song i think, so perfectly perfect and true. today the stars are fast asleep, daylight hanging cold and bright from those branches like tangled jewels.
i had pizza for breakfast, one of those small ones made for just one person, and instead of using a real plate, i was lazy and used a styrofoam plate, politically incorrect though it may be, not-self-nurturing though it may be (though i would argue that not needing to wash a dish is a different form of self nurturing, as powerful as pizza on a beautiful plate), and the pizza cutter grooved a star in the styrofoam.
there is an accidental tree outside my bathroom window, only there because when it first appeared i mistook it for the plumbago we'd carelessly mowed down the year before and let it grow and within a year it was obviously a tree; two years later it hovers outside the window, still thin, but tall. when i open the curtains each morning it peeks in at me and this morning the leaf buds hung on the branches like raindrops.
it was a conversation and she said
I am ok. Which is pretty cool since the plumber just left from repairing this flooding leak under cement (I couldn't really not fix it . . . ) taking half of my mortgage payment with him . . And my stove is broken, so I can't cook, & my front door broke . . . And I feel really calm right now. Who'd've thunk it? Yay for acts of grace.
and i said
i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together . . .
i can hear this windy day tapping against that broken window,
can see it blowing sunshine into the sweet gum tree.
the gumballs are dark circles against the leaves and light and blue sky
and the clouds are movements of white.