Giving the Line Some Slack

I've stepped away.   Nothing was feeling full and vibrant.  There is this deep need tugging at me to find not just rhythms, but rhyme and reason.  To see and feel truth - to get to that level of feeling, deeper than thought, which contains the truth.
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I've just lived the length of it.  I want to have lived the width and depth and breadth of it as well.  By the end, I want to feel guilty for my complete happiness & satisfaction.
And, on that note, here is what is taking up the slack:

The sun has blessed the mornings.  Endowing glory.  An element of no real purpose other than to shed warmth and light - Wakening my joy.

 

Hands cupped around steaming mugs we ventured out into the dawning day.  She chatters.  A swift current of stories & giggles as we make our way over thawing ground.

 We look up and all goes still.  Grandeur is perched in our presence.  Awed to whispers.

Home greeted me with more steaming goodness.  There is something remarkable that these grown women have spent their whole lives with me.  That they continue to want to spend life together?  Wonder.

This early thaw outdoors is slowly melting us inwardly.  Kale, mangos, bananas, berries, & spinach are finding themselves being liquified in the blender with increasing frequency. 

 A friend moving to town.  Not that we need an excuse for coffee.  Tastebuds thank me for the coconut milk.  Every. Time.

 New leaves.  The turning over of them - it's occurring ubiquitously.  

 For years long we heard, "When I'm 18 I'm getting a tatoo, piercing my nose, and smoking a pipe!"  18 came 8 months ago.  The only unchecked box is the pipe.  Owned but not yet lit and puffed.

 Blank canvas.

 Guide lines.

 Jimmy Jack.

 Begun.

Aftermath.

 Appetite intact.  Sister's wasn't when she viewed the 'aftermath'.

"P R A Y".  Daily reminder.

 

7:30 - 10 PM.  You aren't seeing things.  A concert at the Ellen, downtown, outside home's 4 walls. Out.  Me.  -  Truth.

& Oh! The gratefulness for the going.  Solas.  "Light".  Entrancing light.
Seamus, Mick, Winn, Eamon, Niamh.  Plans have formed for M to wed an Irishman. 

Afternoons sprawling on the floor, books open, faithful Rumplesnout curled up close. Snoring.  Vibrations transmitting a sense of life.

"That you are here—that life exists, and identity;   
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse." ~Whitman

Life is real! Life is earnest!
   And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
   Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
   Finds us farther than to-day.

...

Let us, then, be up and doing,
   With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing
   Learn to labor and to wait.~HW Longfellow 

With a heart for any fate...