the art of taking note
Curled tucked
Fetal position
Rolled
Warm
Like a hot cross bun
Baking in the white down
Oven of my bed
Rest warms me
As I clean my brush, swipe the bristles
To remove the residue
Folded into a two am pose
Snug as a bug in a rug
Soul rest cleans
The brush
So I can wake anew
Mercy
Full
Of grace
To create
White canvas waits
And the uncurling of knees to chest
Legs at rest
Pretzel twists of arms and legs
Springs from the layered nest
Re-creation begins anew.
She hangs on the wall.
A mirror of my mind.
And I long with her and dream with her.
Used to want to ask her what was on her mind.
Now I know.
She is me and I am her.
And I rest in the knowledge that she is Eve.
Every dream, all of them hang with her.
Her gaze is our gaze.
Her stare is our stare.
And so I know the leg up repose of dreaming.
And you do too.
The craving for a chair to dream.
Go there.
A chair to go and write.
Sit there.
A window pouring out the slanted rays for a moment’s pause.
And dream with Eve.
Rest with her, with me.
And gaze a moment maybe more.
Soak in the world, release what stores up in the achey bones.
And sit under the tree of life.
And hang with Eve, the mirror on our life.
Woman, child,
And rest.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
(Joining Lisa-Jo Baker at Lisa Jo dot com for her #fiveminutefriday – REST)
While all the world is warring
And storms blow over,
Stop, still scarring lives,
I unwrap sweet gift of resting
Unworthy as I am
In a cabin, boxed small peace
Made in part by hands of man
The one that loves me
Still, like embers in this fire here
In the cabin in the woods
Warm like fingers of the flame
Dancing like the ballerinas in Swan Lake
So graceful draping
Over logs in gentle beauty
Warm and wild.
And still and quiet are loud and thick
Like dense gray fog if she could speak
Peace envelopes in the quiet
And comfort blankets me in love, such peace.
I tuck my heart up in this place and soak
My soul in silence.
And there is warring in my soul
Only at the time of leaving.
But peace is carried off from here
While worlds away are hard at war
It’s tucked in memory in my pockets
For my treasured keeping.
He restores, rebuilds
Our love
We stare, we lie
In rest, repose.
Stilled, our souls by calm
And ready to return from this
Boxed gift
Sweet love in silence
Saved and savored
In the cabin in the woods.
Joining Deidra
elizabeth w. marshall 