“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


the boat will fall apart, no ifs, ands, or buts

all the wisteria is gone with the rain.  last week my view from the couch was lavender, this week it's green and fog, with the pink of azaleas peeping around the corners.  9 a.m. and silence.


i dreamed in layers, awoke in my dream to find myself still dreaming, dreaming of death and the colors of mourning and flowers pressed into caskets, tight against the dearly beloved, bright moments of red and heartbreak, soft focus.  i wore pale gray silk the color of this morning's sky, almost white, and was late to the funeral.

i pull yesterday's page from my calendar, and today's quote is by shunryu suzuki:
"life is like getting into a boat that's just about to sail out to sea and sink."

my first reaction is stillness.  i stand and stare at the words.  
and then i begin to laugh.
of course.  of course.
why would we think otherwise?

this blog is my boat, these words are my oars, and there's a storm in the distance that will take them all apart.  i will be fine.  if i can't find a piece of a word to hold me up, and in truth that's asking a lot of some vowels and consonants - not their job, after all - i will float on my back, face against the rain.  it won't last forever.  the boat may sink, but that has nothing to do with me.  i am free.  gone with the rain.


the fog has lifted and birds are singing.  the wind is up and today's rain promises to come.  i write about zen in a non-zen way.  in the distance, a train siren.  on the couch, the cat watches the day through the open door, and on the table, stolen azaleas.  breakfast, an english muffin with butter.  i will be late to work.



  1. oh my, yes, why would we think otherwise? and i want to float away into that image...

  2. I wish I had the poetry to answer this well. As it deserves: beautifully, wisely. You know, I was thinking today as I walked home under a darkening sky of how the heart of Everything is inside the storm.


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