from a room with slanted ceilings

In another place, for once.  These walls blue instead of yellow, yet the likeness remains.  A window from which to gaze, at treetops, at sky and clouds.  What we endure like some concrete mix plastered to our outsides, layering on another wall between what we feel and what we show to the others.  The talking we do, so careful, so orchestrated, a hackneyed script whittled down to nothing.  But today is not a mere trailing on of yesterday.  No, today is a rope tossed back to us, its intricate knotted fibers there for fingers to grasp and pull us forward to lighter times, when we are who we are and we do what we are here to do.

Leave a comment


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  • Recent Posts

  • Navigation Station

    The links along the top of the page are rudimentary attempts at trail markers. Otherwise, see below for more search and browse options.

  • In Search of Lost Time

  • Personal Taxonomy

  • Common Ground

  • Resources


%d bloggers like this: