Just the fog dancing in the tree tops
Just me alone with my mom’s traveling ashes
doing what she always wanted me to do
I could sit on this porch and cry all day
because it’s the easy thing to do
But…
Only a few tear drops this time
Off to explore
I am my mother’s daughter
9/9/23
I forgot to take my meds today. Not just one but all three. Held a chicken in my arms, cradled a goat’s head in my hands and rub their bloated belly’s . Pet the donks until I was insane in the membrane and not once did one of them call me an ass. Reveled in horizontal bed meditation, rising at 6am. Packed way too much stuff, wrong clothes, computer, instead of simple clothing and a journal. I will miss this place and will (gw) return again. How wonderful to be around creatives who look at life to be lived instead of complaining and bitching about the gift of life. GW next time, I’ll be prepared to hike or run. This magical place allows me to be myself, en paz, without the need or want to impress others, only to be myself, raw, exposed and whole. The beauty of this was to be accepted by strangers who were not in a position to judge or label me or assume who and what I am based on limited perceptions of life. I miss my animals at home but relish the liberation to lie on a bed without fur flying in the air. I hear thunder rolling on the clouds where I sit, on this porch, as well as the voice of the river- flow, flowing, flowed. I feared rain would ruin the weekend here but the overcast skies and intermittent rain only enhanced the abundance of nature and it’s unique voice. Book and pen next time.
*GW-God Willing
*en paz-in peace
*Donks-donkeys
