Dry Ground

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Just beneath the surface of life
a river used to surge;
fierce, electric
so much moving now still.

Daily patterns recur
iterate like memes incessant
bristle (get out of my head)
slow, attune, resume
each day hard-won
a better view to…
perspective?

The heart of the matter.
Where is it.
That sweet spot where we make out
tender, humane, achingly beautiful
stories told:
a long conversation
the hand of a friend
a clearing through fog
a way that is wise, open, that reassures
that speaks to me —
Wow.

Why am I wowed by that?

Ah, well, fellow traveler the rain won’t materialize so let’s try another coffee.
Or something.

Thanks for reading. Stay safe. We’re in this together. x

*originally published July, 2020

7 thoughts on “Dry Ground”

Now I want a cup of coffee even though it’s too late to have one.

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Even though I’ve had three cups today (there are days that require more than two, what can I say?) I would still join you for a cuppa, Kelly.
And just so you know, I am also wowed by your list…
Have a fabulous day!

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