It’s been dreary here in Northern Arizona. For days it’s rained and rained, with few sunny interludes. What better to do on such days than read, looking up every now and then to marvel at the rain?
To pass the time, I bought a new book of poetry. Fugitive Colors by Chrystos. My favorite lines so far–
“Setting up my cook fire
in the breasts of strangers I call lovers
No blanket fits no stone welcomes I am
the path I want to follow”
– from I Walk Beside the Prints of Gulls
I read those lines over and over, listening to their vibrations as they resonated within my spirit. But that was yesterday. Today I awoke to sun, blue skies, monsoon clouds rolling slowly over the horizon. I’d like to write some of my own poetry today, cherishing the bright warmth that streams through my window and onto my notebook.
Untethered as a Cloud 