A tired weekend of many restorative naps. Art and cooking were the activities calling to me although this little poem snuck out. Have a great new, fresh week.
Though I am but a Breeze
write
to write
feet warming near the stove
cave of fire
on a rainy day
when the birds have quieted
and the green glistens slick.
I am warm and safe
and loved
for my quiet, steady presence
though I am but a breeze
passing through this place
that has stood before me
and will stand beyond me.
I lend my thoughtful scribblings
to its walls
here is where I too sleep
the good, restorative sleep.
