Just what I needed
My friend Lach wrote this poem, and I felt like he wrote it just for me knowing he also wrote it for him. And I guess, for anyone struggling out there.
And so its been a slow move back to the world, after covid, after leaving Arizona, in the middle of helping my mom die – I get out there, go out there, make a video, sing a song, and then – I have to hide, rest, sleep off the vulnerability hangover. That’s how it goes these days.
And all I can do is go slow.
And maybe look at some fish, listen to some birds, smile at a dog – and carefully let people into my heart, because it is a “terrorized heart” – and I am just figuring that out.
Oh man, if it isn’t tender.
Here’s the Poem:
On Starting To Let The World In Again
Find a cold, burbling stream
A brook of glacial ripple
And squat riverbedside
Like checking on a child
Seeking silver bellies
And non-blinking eyes
Move on to birds
Raising mugs of burnt coffee
To blue-eyed skies
Toasting arcs of triumph
Gilded by soaring flight
And nonchalant glory
Lach’s Novel
~ ~ ~ ~
Woodstock, NY
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