Asked what do I want. An answer overwhelms, as For so long, It was you and our life, however gone both are. These past years, an assemblage of the fallout Into only myself. Gone is the decades of love, comfort together, Now it is just me, alone, how aware of that. But body And soul remember. So what do I want. Will love you always, could Welcome another with love always, would he Love me always. If not, than thankful for the good will shared, Wish that other well, and guard the Serenity I have.
Are we just one thing or another? This or that? Perhaps at our most simplistic we are a mix, Body, brain, soul. And if bliss is a perfect blend of all, perhaps, Then, whenever one is ignored, we chance Flirting with folly. But, even when the odds are too minute, Pursuing despite the stakes, may yet be Worth the gamble And if the wager falls contrary, may the merit Of trying temper the pain in revealing the Fool I am.
I like driving, the awareness of the task at hand, Things close by, the world surrounding and The thoughts accompanying. I like being driven, to just rest, watch all, Converse or not. Now is a lot of one, too long Since the other.
I drive into the remnants of a hurricane Blown away, drive through sanded winds And deep water. The surf lays hard over the beach strand, Gales push against me, I lean into it. Only too well I know standing alone. Sometimes a body, And soul, appreciates being held up, even For a moment.
Rejection, however kindly wrapped is still a dismissal Rebuff, refusal, a go away. Beyond soft touches and words Remains only, no. I do not know, does the heart feel larger only for the hurt Or is that only the implosion before it curls smaller yet. I don’t know. Twenty eight years ago, still I wear your gold band, For five and some I’ve walked heart alone, my way now. I only know That love is a treasure. I wish for it, miss for it, yearn for it. Will it ever grace my life again, It’s likely, no.
The Studio at Line's End Farm is where I paint and try to find some joy again, and some equilibrium, not simple these days. One weblog records thoughts, ideas, methods and mixtures, palettes, observations, actually anything that intrigues me concerning my painting and working in the studio. Another observes only the horse in paintings that I find influential. The last are done for my sanity. All are my opinion only, open to other suggestions.