I am at a loss for words this morning. I've been looking at my laptop screen for several minutes and nothing wants to come out. I tell people who are new to journaling - just start writing and something will happen - if not immediately, after 2 and 1/2 pages. So, you may have to go through a lot of nothing before anything shows up worth reading this morning. Perhaps I waited too long. Had an early morning yoga hour with two students and then jumped right into a bowl of cereal (not literally) and vacuuming, making beds, gathering laundry, etc. etc. So my head is used up with trivialities, workings of the day. I think I'll rely on a lovely poem I read last evening sitting in the swing by the Pond to share with you. It is the last few lines of The Lark by Mary Oliver from her book What Do We Know. (Don't have a photo of a lark, but the turkey will do!)
. . . . . and then something summons him again/and up he goes,/his shoulders working,/his whole body almost collapsing and floating/to the edges of the world./
We are reconciled, I think,/to too much./Better to be a bird, like this one--/an ornament of the eternal./As he came down once, to the nest of the grass,"Squander the day, but save the soul," I heard him say.
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