Outsized ideas are full
of words and images,
tangled together,
a myriad of balloons
released into the morning air.
To pick one thread, one string;
to catch the most important one
can seem, at first, impossible.
Not to the scientists who see
the possibilities.
They each take hold of
any string and begin.
“Touch a scientist and you touch a child.”
~ Ray Bradbury
Suspicion pushes reason aside like any argument.
Nothing makes sense but
for the little sliver that does.
It’s grasping that tiny sliver;
to hang on is the tough part.
That little sliver is the love of a real life
and can push suspicion gently aside.
“Suspicion is a heavy armour and with its weight
it impedes more than it protects.”
~ Robert Burns
Argument is never reasonable,
especially against the frigid ice air that stings my cheeks and nose. Anger never got me anywhere when the weather is what it is.
My only defence, besides staying home, is layers. Layers of clothes, red woollen toque pulled low, a fuzzy multicoloured scarf wrapped
‘round my already layered neck, and a heavy winter coat. Still not heavy enough to thwart the winter wind and temperatures. But giving in to
argument and frustration,
would give the weather gods
the win in this prairie winter argument.
Like the rest of the stalwarts, I do my shopping,
spending time looking for just the right head of
lettuce or another notebook while I perspire under
my layers. Great pads of ice, whirling winds and
cabin fever be damned. I have a life to live.
“The only way to get the best of an argument is to avoid it.”
~ Dale Carnegie
Every day moments slip by me as easily as snow falling. Even in the midst of a
conversation about much loved dogs or cats, the latest block buster or how to cook a
delicious omelet. If I rely on memory to put a pin in each moment, I may be
disappointed. Some moments
do remain, but for how long,
no one can say.
‘Staying in the moment’ is curious
because moments melt like snow
landing on my nose. I just get up
and wash the dishes or wade through
the snow to the lake, talk on the phone,
or settle in with a good book.
‘“What day is it?” asked Pooh.
“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favourite day,” said Pooh.’
~ A.A.Milne
Rita could not help herself.
Music energized her.
Instead of a simple walk
across any room,
she glided and swished,
swayed and twirled.
keeping time with
the rhythm of her life.
“Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but in the living room.”
~ Kurt Vonnegut
Rita could not…..
Every day…..
Argument is never….
Suspicion pushes….
Outsized ideas……
Nerves of steel…..
“Reason is the natural order of truth;
but imagination is the organ of meaning.”
~ C.S.Lewis
