I just knew it was going to be that kind of day,
when a quiet morning with my book
has been interrupted, too many times
for my liking,
(I just knew it was going to be that kind of day)
when muffins I am making for my daughter’s friend
pick today to spill over in the oven
when the smells of deliciousness are overpowered
by something burning
on the bottom
when I have tripped over the dog, too many times
and I let her know it
when today’s plan to work in the garden
by the current state of affairs
means, that I will be playing
in the mud
when I have been out of birdseed for days
and somehow feel as if I
have
let
them
down…
when too much pollen on the pond makes it
hard to see what’s going on in there
and also
hard to breathe
when the sting of something harsh, words with thorns
leave their marks
have me feeling still a little
crumpled inside
and also there is this,
I don’t watch a lot of tv, I am not a binge watcher of any kind
I rarely watch Netflix, although we do have it
I don’t always do well with series tv, with ongoing dramas
never remember when they are on
and also I have real trouble being sucked in
I like, I guess you could say – happy things, and interesting things
and hockey.. I like hockey
as it happens, we are currently watching a rapid succession of seasons
of a particular show with our daughters
that involves family, relationships and the ever changing landscapes of life
and if it was just me, I would have quit it a long time ago
as here I am once again
absorbing heartache for someone, I do not know
I can feel the weight of it
I can feel it in the night when I wake up
thinking how can I help?
the shadows of which, follow me around
in the day
if only we could talk, could I offer you
a hug?
and isn’t this ridiculous… but this is me
somehow I absorb the weight of heartache (even fictional)
and I carry it with me
I wonder how someone can intentionally be so mean
and hurt someone so
I wonder just how I would handle a wounding such as this
even though I know I am by no means
delicate
it’s the irrationality
that strikes
normally you see, I would stop watching
(because I know that I do this)
I would let it go, look for happier things
or things I can learn, nature, history
a move to the English countryside
yet the thing is with someone’s story, before we know it
we are hooked
and still I can hope for the best
such I guess, is the plight of me
a heart that is open
porous, absorbing life
looking, seeing, listening, feeling,
aware, in tuned to when skin starts to feel
thin..
when I am open to wounding
even when
it is not my arrow
to take
I just knew it was going to be that kind of day,
so I take it gently
and quietly
I watch the rain pattering on leaves
as it falls
I breathe a little deeper
almost like a sigh
I watch my ferns as they begin
to unfurl,
and then I wait
again, for the sun
to break
through ♥