Who burst into tears at St Patrick's parade
When cheering and laughing were high
where unsupporting crowd felt
scary and dumb and
the soul was as empty as hollow
Who stood there staring with
unwilling eyes escapeless
of space and emotions,
no one to hold on to not one
single person coldcovered shoulders
unheld and not wanted
Who did she see, what caused the action
What made the beer be useless and foreign
and cheering and laughter absent and queer
I should have been braver and rushed,
an aider to hold her and tell her
all will be fine, no bloke is worth it or
other lies as a friend would do in
a matter like this.
But cowarding feet stood like
concrete on ground
unmovable motionless traitors of heart
Instead I moved on and found
attentive arms embracing the view
of sadness away and cuddling
oblivion to my heart as a grace
of comfort, but not
I am actually reading a book, or rather, I have started to read a book . I know I should read more, it just kind of is not happening. But in book stores in Great Britain I always get so inspired. I don’t always buy anything. I tell myself “you wont read that anyway so don’t spend money on it”. But then a new book shop turns up and my eyes catch that same book again and again. And then finally at the airport I do not dare to leave with out bringing that treasure back home with me. So I started reading this on the plane. And it caught all my senses instantly. The writing mode is fantastic. I truly wish I could write like that. I still keep it in my handbag. I touch it when I search for my wallet or notebook. I know it is there. Soon I will pick it up and start reading it.
If you happen to finish it before me please tell me if it is just as good all the way to the end.
I don’t mean my family is not a bliss to me. Because they are, and eternally so. They are my light, my breath, the blood in my veins, my everything. But no matter how much I love them there are parts that make me sad, maybe a word or action, not even ment to harm, just my own interpretation. And the fact that we will not always be together. Feeling bliss with them in the very moment is rewarding when I practice that. And I do, try to make every moment count.
Being able to find bliss when I am working with my own ways of expressing colour, shapes, stories is rewarding in another way. The more I practice the more I find who I am inside. Creating makes the hours fly away. Finding myself helps me stand with both feet firmly. Loving myself, to love others.
Puppy bliss. He accepts it when I tell him to back off and joyfully returns when the situation is over. I laugh and play with him and he confirms me just the way I am. His friendly eyes look at me with presence. I find unconditional bliss.
But his people will soon be back to pick him up. (That will mean sleeping all nights again 🙂 )
Some days the view at the ocean might seem unfriendly and cold. The dampness and saltiness overwhelming. But that harshness is refreshing, even necessary, to see the life in front of us. The sea is life, salt is life and green is life. Everything is connected, and we are right here, able to embrace that.
Some days the view at the ocean is friendly and warm. We are able to embrace that too.