All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
Making eggs at midnight and this comes to me? It started as a list. How average can we be when we love and how comfortable it is knowing it is typical. I'm going to eat now, fix this later, or not. Typical Love As ordinary as oatmeal, the collared dog that must walk, like sunshine that was there when you first got up still burning behind the mask... As free as that bird builds a nest in the garage gutter, like leaves, gentle, obey the winds falling, falling, falling down to your ground to lay... Our lips embrace forever. Two twigs low, commingled, once swayed in soaring tree, grows a canopy above, warm shelter for two children, three cats, those hamsters content clucking, chittering like raindrops in our hearts. Small hands, tender, wrap ours, typical, calling, calling, calling 'come watch...' Know innocence, true beauty, how we heal them in the night from bad dreams, unjustly pained by sickness inside where we are safe to dream. We, a typical love, we share our stories together so others know how ordinary as oatmeal. I take inspiration where I can find it. Shine it. Hold it up for you to see it glowing, still growing. Thanks, to thee. |