Friday, August 25, 2006

Rain washes over me - I sprout

Had a concrete pour at my Oaktown site last Wednesday. As I got close to the truck to check the load tags to verify the mix design, felt and smelled new rain. Dark clouds covered the sky I got jiggy with the thought of sprinkles in the East Bay in the month of Augustus, with me outside to enjoy them. Visions of seeds germinating and growing inside my fractal layered soul soil washed over the backdrop of my mind's eye, little green growing things my loyal friends. The miniature drops appearing on the load tag caused my vision and thoughts to sharpen. Nose picked up the smell of fresh rain and ran with it. Life that much better with the water for the moment. A leaky black hose hooked to the truck from janitor's closet on the 2nd floor of the building caught my eye, forced me to admit the artificial nature of the mood lifting precipitation. No matter, the seeds had already sprouted. Fields and forests continue to thrive within me, rivulets feed rivers that swell and sing on their way to magic moonlit dream seas seasoned sweet & salty with endless tears of pointless & hopeless resistance. I practice releasing past & future, leading my anxiety ridden spirit back to the here & now.

When I arrive home each night Wife passes daughter off to me. Daughter & I sit together as I eat, her legs pointing toward me to maintain connection. She smiles and blows bubbles, kneads me like an affectionate feline, kicks me surprising wake-up jolts for an almost 4-month old, smiles delightful. If I hand her off to Mama for a minute she keeps her eye on me, lets me know she enjoys our short evening times. Darling rides my left arm like twas ever thus, prostyle like the X Games, laughs at a most of my jokes, a perfect companion with silky hair and Baby Feels So Real skin. Never did get that Baby Feels So Real doll I wanted as a kid, but this angel infant showers dense blessings with an unmatched & pure generosity.

The boy rocks & rolls so icy I feel like I live with a superstar, perhaps Jim Morrison or Beck. Whenever he gets out of the bath he requests to be wrapped like a burrito in the towel. We eat artichokes together, sharing the hearts. We devour peaches and other summer fruits with tremendous gusto. The horses have started walking right up to our fence; he feeds them carrots, talks to them like they understand, and it seems they do. Time spent together adds life.

3 comments:

Siobhan said...

thank you D'arty

Dani said...

*such* the pisces you are ...

Fourth Musketeer said...

*such* with the emphasis on *, shower me