It has been a very busy 4 weeks since I last posted. Our AC broke during a heat wave and we had family visiting us while the usual rhythms of life continuously rolled on. During all this, I've been tending my garden, trying my hand at succession planting. I've been trying to become an expert at seed starting despite the germination of a seed being a miracle. I think I shall be seeing some of my flowers bloom soon! I have also been finishing turning old t-shirt scraps into cleaning cloths and covering them with embroidery.
The week spent with Isaac's siblings was a lot of fun but, I am ready to clean the house and return to the summer routines. I'll be leaving in a week for a short trip to Colorado. I love traveling but I think I may have hit my limit for a while. I like doing laundry and cleaning the house, having my weekly trips to the library, going to the grocery store and the gym. I really enjoy some of the routines I find myself in right now.
I borrowed some books of poetry by Mary Oliver from the library and found a new poem I'd like to record here.
Hum, Hum
1.
One summer afternoon I heard
a looming mysterious hum
high in the air; then came something
like a small planet flying past-
something
not at all interested in me but on its own
way somewhere, all anointed with excitement:
bees, swarming
not to be held back
Nothing could hold them back.
2.
Gannets diving.
Black snake wrapped in a tree, our eyes
meeting.
The grass singing
as it sipped up the summer rain.
The owl in the darkness, that good darkness
under the stars.
The child that was myself, that kept running away
to the also running creek,
to colt's foot and trilliams,
to the effortless prattle of the birds.
3. Said the Mother
You are going to grow up
and in order for that to happen
I am going to have to grow old
and then I will die, and the blame
will be yours.
4. Of the Father
He wanted a body
so he took mine.
Some wounds never vanish.
Yet little by little
I learned to love my life.
Though sometimes I had to run hard-
especially from melancholy-
not to be held back.
5.
I think there ought to be
a little music here:
hum, hum
6.
The resurrection of the morning.
The mystery of the night.
The hummingbird's wings.
The excitement of thunder.
The rainbow in the waterfall.
Wild mustard, that rough blaze of the fields.
The mockingbird, replaying the songs of his
neighbors.
The bluebird with its unambitious warble
simple yet sufficient.
The shining fish. The beak of the crow.
The new colt who came to me and leaned
against the fence
that I might put my hands upon his warm body
and know fear.
Also the words of poets
a hunded or hundreds of years dead-
their words that would not be held back.
7.
Oh the house of denial has thick walls
and very small windows
and whoever lives there, little by little
will turn to stone
In those years I did everything I could do
and I did it in the dark-
I mean, without understanding.
I ran away.
I ran away again.
Then, again, I ran away.
They were awfully little, those bees,
and maybe frightened,
yet unstoppably they flew on, somewhere,
to live their life.
Hum, hum, hum.
- Hum, hum by Mary Oliver, 2012, from A thousand Mornings
Summer has entered, summer is here. I hope I feel it, I hope I live it for all its lush stickiness and long sun-filled days.
Pc:https://www.pinterest.com/pin/202521314488353968/