I’ve few words to share today. In fact, the post that I wrote I decided not to share. It was, as they say, a little too ‘heavy’. The thing is we’re in such a hurry to get somewhere — where, I’m not sure — that we fail to recognise that our life is here, in this moment, which often feels or can feel brittle and ennui-infused.
“The briefest of fires.” Quiet way that line is speaking to me so loudly this morning I’m not so sure. Three big books of Mary Oliver on the shelf and yet I never feel the urge to dive in. I wonder why? Because her poems always do something to me. Hmm.
“The briefest of fires.” Quiet way that line is speaking to me so loudly this morning I’m not so sure. Three big books of Mary Oliver on the shelf and yet I never feel the urge to dive in. I wonder why? Because her poems always do something to me. Hmm.
“Finger wagging” ~ what a lovely phrase ! I’ll remember that one and try and use it for sure. Thank you.