There must be something about the Sundays of early winter in California that have led to such calming poems as the ones I have written on Sunday these last few weeks.
Today’s poem “A Restful Meditation” remarks upon a phenomenon I attribute partially to the new medication I am adjusting to for my mental illness, and partially to some very productive and comforting conversations I have had with loved ones this past week.
Yes, the walls “seemed softer” today upon waking, less like a construct to box me in, this morning felt as welcoming and liberating as the discovery of a new pillow fort in child, a kind of new adventure appearing before me as I opened my eyes and found myself blearily staring at green, mildly textured paint.
As I headed off to work this morning too, the words “Today will be lovely,” did indeed “jump” from my lips, or rather came forth reverently like a prayer or a self-fulfilling prophecy. And yes, dear reader, it was an incredibly lovely day.