#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

“Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on.”
― Heinrich Heine, “Book of Songs, New Spring, No. 5”

It was a 5.4 mile talk. Lost in deep conversation with a dear friend on the phone. Up and out by 6:30 a.m., into the sunshine and frosted meadow, the whole time in warm, comforting, enlightening, probing conversation. Parenting, mothering, poetry, drama, Jung, archetypes, dreams, the psyche, self-care. A rich exchange that fueled us both. The lily of the valley that grows in the shade of the trees on the trail just past the two swamps is in bloom. A favorite. Then, home to a poetry workshop with a poem I was feeling so solid about.. A short poem, and lots of feedback, and my surprise that there were so many comments about suggested changes. I made them this afternoon. But I am feeling less in love with this poem. It needs a breather now. I will leave it alone, I think, and see what happens to it. My daughters coax me out for an afternoon walk, again in the sun and warmth of true spring. Again, it’s a long, deep, probing talk about relationships, marriage, mothering, and more. Suzi comes and Charlie. We walk into exhaustion. Nine miles of walking and talking for me today. My head and heart are full of the intimacy of women talking over the deep core to insight, strength, vision, transformation, imperfection and integrity. Poor Suzi collapses, she has gone too far but we know it was worth it. Charlie tries to get my daughter to play ball, he is indefatigable. Tonight is homemade pizza night. My daughter rolls out the dough, I do the rest. We have a feast of pizza. Roasted butternut squash and carmelized onion pizza. Spinach and onion and pesto pizza. We’ll be eating leftover pizza happily for days.