Perhaps my favourite sounds are the morning ones just outside my window. Crows cawing their greeting to each other, wee birds singing an ode to the coming day. Wind rustling about in the trees, telling them the secrets of its travels.

Amen and Amen.

The Guest-House This being human is a guest-house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you
out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(Mary Oliver)

these days i wear big boots with steel toes
these days i have no energy for anything but work and getting home
today i ate dinner in a dingy pub down the road
with a friend whom i love a load
and sometimes i write terrible poetry.

i am neither here

nor there

these days.

i like this

and i hate it.

Self Promotion? I'm Shamless.

Dear people who read this (however few and whoever you are),

I like writing things and putting them here. It helps me process. However,  I don't come up with substantial things to say very often. So if you want to hear from me more often, though perhaps less profoundly (though really, I think profound is the wrong word for what I put on this blog) then please check out my other internet sharing venture. It's fun to post photos and short sentences. It's actually how I journal most of the time - less intimidating.
I will still post on here, but I wanted share this too:

http://thaliaes.tumblr.com/

thoughts on the morning of march twenty-third as i look out my kitchen window

i love the careful grace of the world. it wraps around me and pulls me together when i've gone to pieces.