how to dive in
Be afraid. Tremble at the thought. Sleep poorly. Eat potato chips in
nervous succession. Get angry when you least expected it. Feel
impatient at small talk, how much it delays and distracts. Yearn
for silence, that necessary blank canvas. Take note of the way clouds steal
across the sky, shaping themselves into the faces of celebrities, or a rabbit.
Find yourself, unexpectedly, advancing toward an edge, electric and unsure.
Notice the texture of the ground under your feet - loose pebbles, hot granite.
See what you do when no one's watching, how you lean in, how you want more,
aching for that first kiss of wind on your face, that smile of sun, beaming.
Catch your breath, close your eyes, then remember: you're not dreaming.
~ from the 10-line Tuesday series
: : :
It's not the first time one of Maya's poems has arrived in my Tuesday box
somehow being so perfectly tuned
to here and now.
For you see, I'm heading out on a wee adventure shortly
to another edge,
some 4,450 miles from home ...
and I am feeling all these things Maya speaks of
[although I may have to admit to French fries over potato chips].
Shall be quiet here for a little while
but surely I'll have some tales to tell when I return.
The happiest of summers to each of you ...