For the lonely, the bridge is a seam
between two skies.
It's heartbreaking some days, the beauty of language.
I have walked away, away from words. Between productivity and creativity, a division is made and I have lived in an urgency to get this done and that started. Everything is a checklist to the next set of things undone things, people untended.
Deep in the fog of work and chores, I have wasted days. Still, words stirred, called to me. Come back, they urged.
The birds move like ballet dancers in the air
but sound like truckers at a roadside bar.
- Debra Smith
from Terns flock to Everett paper mill after it closes
Today, I woke again, startled. After days of numb, I am drawn to an evocative line, a catchy phrase, the whirl of words. How had I missed them? How I had missed them!
Silence can be a plan
the blueprint to a life
It is a presence
it has a history a form
Do not confuse it
with any kind of absence
What words call you? What lines or phrases draw you in, bring you back to yourself?