#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Nature’s Art, Morning Brook
someone stands between you and death — but
who knows how much more my heart can stand —
where you are, it’s so important
someone prays for you
even with their own words
even if they don’t clasp their hands and kneel
plucking the stems off strawberries from the garden
I recall how I scolded you when you were small
for squashing the berries before they ripened
my heart whispers: Death, he hasn’t ripened yet
he’s still green, nothing in his life has been
sweeter than unwashed strawberries . . .~Halyna Kruk, Excerpt from “the mother/mama,” Translated from the Ukrainian by Sibelan Forrester and Mary Kalyna with Bohdan Pechenyak.
No good reason, but not good sleep. Still, a productive day. A ski with Charlie and Suzi; the snow soft and slushy in parts, and icy in parts, and bare ground here and there, but it’s quite lovely, I feel great, and the sun is out in a blue sky, a blue sky like the blue sky of Nosara. The news devastating, riveting, tragic, horrific; I listen to podcasts, the latest on Ukraine. Then, lead Charles River writers, as a webinar, and it’s great to be back with this writing group after my break. Wonderful writing generated. Lifts my spirit. After 5:00 tonight I notice the light. It’s light! The days growing longer, the snow slowly melting. The days of this month move toward—oh, gratitude—spring. I sign up to attend a PEN America sponsored event, Ukrainian writers: PEN AMERICA EVENT: VOICES OF UKRAINE: READINGS IN SUPPORT OF UKRAINE Friday, March 4, 2022 | 2:00 pm – 3:30 pm ET