the Galvanized woman
who sees it all, spread before her,
the necessary intuition,
the overwhelm that comes from being
unable to compartmentalize.
Galvanized woman
who moves to find her heart beat in anything,
in ultrasound focus.
oh the inconsistencies, oh the insecurities.
Inscrutable nothing.
Inscrutable everything.
Lake Padden, Washington, via iPhone 15
The blue heron makes a sound like the world is ending.
Ripping like doomsday through the air.
a regal beak, a torrential sound.
I thought life might be over, if you’d heard it too, you’d know.
“What is one to do with such moments, such memories, but cherish them? Who knows what is beyond the known? And if you think that any day the secret of light might come, would you not keep the house of your mind ready? Would you not cleanse your study of all that is cheap, or trivial? Would you not live in continual hope, and pleasure, and excitement?”
― Mary Oliver, Winter Hours
Feels like you’ve been here before,
illusionary doors,
unsettled stagnant scores.
the feeling that you might end up somewhere else entirely,
depending on where you step,
to veer off trail is to find yourself losing yourself,
which, depending on who you ask,
can be lovely
or alarming.
Above all else.
May love and hope, which is our natural state,
be what we return home to.
Sleepless, but with a silver lining.
Red, existing in extremes,
unable to be anything but itself.
Commanding passionately at the far end of this visible spectrum.
the simplicity and beauty of a poppy in full bloom
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. ― Frank O'Hara
For [you] the sun shines; for [me] the moon and the stars. -Hermann Hesse
A sense of leaving scenes like this, as spring barrels its way into summer. I used to regret a change in the weather, but I don’t anymore. Not sure exactly what changed, other than on a good day I have appreciation for now, whatever it looks like.