“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

3.24.2013

conversations and grace and the patterns of life


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.

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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 guess at a certain point grace is what we are left with.  I will share my broken window with you.

i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together . . .

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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.

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9 comments:

  1. your writing is simply some of the best available on the internet, I wish you would put words together into a book.

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  2. Whenever I am feeling spent, I come here and your words lift me, inspire me.

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  3. Pizza for breakfast, love that . . . for me it was cookies. The dogwood looks beautiful and it does look as though stars are hanging from it.

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  4. ...and I feel really calm right now....that sense of grace we all have after all....so glad I found your blog ;)

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  5. this made me sigh... such a beautiful vignette of life, in the same vein as I am he as you are...

    and it gave me a little extra bit of hope that spring will get here. i've stopped holding my breath, and decided to simply wait. grace is a beautiful thing.

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  6. sometimes i don't always know your words meanings...but they never fail to lift me up and my heart smiles when i read them. i am so very grateful you share them with me.
    tilda

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  7. I agree with tilda, your words enchant.

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  8. That first paragraph is simply sublime.
    And I see them.... the tangled jewels... I even see two little white hearts amongst those tangled jewels. Do you see them? On the upper right corner between the two big leaves? They are right next to each other, one is leaning against the edge of the leaf.

    :)

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  9. They've said it all before, and all I can add is...ditto.

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come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .