Couple of things happened today that made me very grateful for my life and both what and, more importantly, who is in it.
Lose
Tag Archives: Love
Day 136: Your Smile
Just admiring my bride this morning as she smiles. Her happiness makes me happy.
Your Smile
Day 130: Dancing With The Muse
Not a two-fer today, but a two pager. This year has been a year of growth and journeying. There is madness here, but there’s also a method to it. I’ll let you know when it all comes together.
Dancing With The Muse
Day 127: To Be Diurnal
Today’s poem brought to you by the combination of an early morning with the inspiration of a blank page next to yesterday’s poem. The symmetry simply appealed to my muse.
To Be Diurnal
Day 122 & Day 123: A Sunset and Indigestion, Intestinal Rebellion
I’ll allow yesterday’s and the day before’ poems to explain my recent silence.
One definite bright spot amidst all this–I am so glad I was home for this, if for no other reason than because I was able to enjoy a gorgeous waterside sunset with my bride from the comfort of our bedroom. The image heading this post was actually the view from our window.
Sunset and Indigestion
Intestinal Rebellion
Day 120: A Puppy with a Rag
I often heard my father pray to God growing up that God would make him “like a puppy with a rag.” Overcome by joy in the simplest things.
A Puppy with a Rag
Day 119: Open
Yesterday when I was writing at one of my favorite coffee shops on the island (and one my my favorite places in general) I noticed an open journal on a coffee table. The journal itself was a work of art, but what truly made it special we’re the contents. I’d never stoop to reading someone else’s personal journal without their blessing, however, with the pages open I caught a glimpse of detailed sketches and painstakingly written notes that were simply breathtaking. I rarely keep nice notebooks because rarely are my own notes and art anywhere near nice. In a way I don’t feel like my chicken scratch is worthy of the journal. This young woman’s was. Beyond any shadow of a doubt.
Open
Day 188: A Quiet Moment
Sometimes they are difficult to find. This is, I think, because quiet moments aren’t ever truly found: quiet moments are made.
A Quiet Moment
Day 187: My Bride Paints Octopuses
Fun fact, in English the plural form of octopus is octopuses, octopodes is the old Greek plural, and octopi is simply incorrect all around unless you yourself are an octopus because it’s inclusive. There’s your random bit of trivia for the day!
My bride is an artist. A pretty darn good one in my opinion. We’re both animal lovers but I’ve got a passion for weird and wonderful creatures. Octopuses have been something of a running joke with us that’s now transcended humor to become a symbol of happiness for us. Once we decided to move to an island my bride painted an octopus. It hangs on the wall of our living room. Our conversation this morning over breakfast and coffee turned to the painting and the others around it. She thinks of octopuses when she thinks of me and is painting. I’m flattered.
Her painting is the header image for this post.
My Bride Paints Octopuses
Day 182 & 184: Zenith; (Not) Working
Didn’t upload on Day 182 because I got caught up with my writing, ran out of time, and by the time I remembered I was supposed to actually share my poetry it was too late.
Day 183 happened to be my birthday and I don’t feel too badly admitting I was too caught up in the good things going on to write a poem.
Day 184, we’re all caught up.
I couldn’t help noticing some carryover from the themes of Monday’s poem to this morning’s entry. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to broken things and things that aren’t broken and when we give them our attention, when do we celebrate them. We have a very odd relationship with things that work and things that don’t. People too for that matter. It is absurdly complicated and doesn’t really make sense.
And I say all of this as one of the biggest offenders. When something works, when it does good, when it is steady and consistent and amazing, we ignore it until it isn’t. Instead we focus on repairing the broken. Is either right? Is either healthy? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Zenith
(Not) Working
The Everyday Poet 