Good Morning/Love and Poetry.

I'm beginning to like Merwin.

Listen by W.S Merwin

with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
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There's rain on the windows. It's a quiet tapping sound. The air is a pale grey with rainy morning light. Today I go to Kelowna for an overnight, to meet the boy's parents, then I come back down to have boxing day breakfast with my friends and family. I'll get to see Ellen (it's been so long!) and Tillie and Juggler and other people whose RSVPs I'm not yet aware of since Tillie's dealing with that. I'm looking forward to this.

I'm reading again. I'm reading Snow Crash. It's been over a month since I could read through a whole book-- remarkable for me. Books, reading, are like a hit of some drug for me. A few lines bring instant safety and reassurance and calm. A whole book-- that feels remarkable. Cocooning.

I want to say something about love, here. My brow furrows up, though, when I think about it, and words fail me. This keyboard feels like I'm playing music on it, not tearing through words as I used to.

There's a deep failure of the language here. I want to say: we both like the same foods. I want to say: I feel partnered again, in it with someone in a way that raises echoes. I want to say: this feels sike intimacy, but between two people with their own two feet. I want to say: the other night we wandered randomly down the street on a whim and stopped at a strange restaurant that was wonderful and that sort of magic has been fantasized about for years in there, up there, but has never happened to me. I want to say: our facial expressions bounce off each other.

None of those is what I want to say.

There's some sort of 'chemistry' between people that is not love, nor is it a sexual spark. It's not a leaning into someone either, not (as I have done before) folding into them and accepting their decisions in lieu of making your own. I have that with Graham.

I also, distinct from this pairing feeling, have a lot of love in my life. Juggler has been like a cradle lately, but also like a friend. Ironically, it takes me a long time to make real friends, and this feels like something significant in our relationship. All this other stuff is deep and wonderful, yes, but my friends/family are the roots of the thing, the outside edges of my soul.

Oh, I can't say any of it today! The words are too slow and heavy and insubstantial. Have a wonderful Christmas, and be well.


This Room And Everything In It

Lie still now
while I prepare for my future,
certain hard days ahead,
when I'll need what I know so clearly this moment.

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no good ... my idea
has evaporated...your hair is time, your thighs are song...
it had something to do
with death...it had something
to do with love.

Li-Young Lee