Part of the reason people turn to poetry—its writing or read­ing—is that they have some belief, experience, perhaps fool­ish faith that language in itself is a reservoir, needed and almost infinitely useful.

I like to begin understanding almost any idea by looking closely, if I can, at the words that hold it. At the etymological root of both healing and health is the idea of “wholeness.” To heal, then, is to take what has been broken, separated, frag­mented, injured, exiled and restore it to wholeness.

~ Excerpt from Jane Hirshfield, from “Poetry, Permeability, and Healing, Poets.org

River like a water color painting in the mist this morning. I walked along the edge, stopped at the landing where I have a view of the trestle bridge––the one we cross to the meadow, where Charlie stalled, yesterday, in his existential panic about crossing back over. Tonight, looking into this green/blue misty dreamy landscape, I feel it’s a just right mood to capture the grief and sadness pooling into our country’s soul this past week amidst so many senseless killings. I don’t stay out long. But long enough to appreciate stopping to be in the moment, to check my heart, at the riverview. Today had unexpected rewards, well, as every day does. But a vaccine against a deadly virus, developed in less than a year, is a miracle, and I’m grateful that i got my appointment invitation today. My appointment for Friday! Tonight, I was pleased to host my Aim for Astonishing Free Webinar, one of my favorite things to do, and I’m grateful for that too. I prepped for my Farm Pond Writers tomorrow, and hope, in the afternoon, to revise a poem for Thursday workshop. Frank and I had dinner on the deck, a casual meal on a warm spring night––outdoors!