In this, my winter of discontent, spring has come early, earlier than expected and I am eternally grateful.
The Tuscan sun is my companion and I find her warmth burgeoning up from my belly and building in my chest. Henry the VIII and poetry are my bedfellows and don't mind that I sleep in the center now. Morning coffee, resplendent with the alluring notes of Hawaii, slips down my throat warming me through and through. Birds outside trill their happiness for an early morning rain which replenished their bath. I make a note to fill the bird feeders in appreciation for their song.
For the first time , in a long time, I am intensely thankful for those who are no longer here for no longer being here. I am thankful for the quiet and peace their absence brings. I am thankful the only demons in my bed are mine, for I know them and know the pace of their walk.
As peace has returned so have my words and I greet them like long-lost friends. We sit together amiably and share the bounty of our table. The words have brought with them newfound love; hearth and home, flavors and friends, adventure and awe. In this, I envision creating new words to describe new experiences, new people, new discoveries.
I am building a path to the deepest recesses of my heart even before I have met the explorer courageous enough to make the trek and build a home there. I am not for the faint of heart (in spending time with myself I am coming to realize this more deeply than ever), but believe a worthy match will be courageous enough to face her own demons as I face mine and, in time, nestle into the comfort of the 'we' of us.
In all of this, I feel a deep and abiding patience. There is no rush for I believe time and the universe are on my side.
~ Mk Michaels
