Saturday, June 18, 2011

World Traveler

On nights like this

when summer has me aching for something I cannot even put my finger on:


to freeze its tender green moment perhaps?
.
.
.

Restless
even after two walks
one vigorous yoga class
a nap with two cats tucked around my legs
revisiting a few favorite books
catching up with my beloved
puttering
watering plant companions
aimlessly cleaning
etc
e
t
c
.
..
.....

I open my box of stones
and touch pieces of the earth

Indonesia

India

Indiana

Indio

Indigo

Iolite

.
.
.

and find stillness
in the wake of their travel
to find me.

::


6 comments:

Lorena sometimes ... said...

simply beautiful ... ...

UmberDove said...

That epic trove of yours must hold ten thousand years of world history, parceled out into bite size bits of glory.

Kimia Kline said...

gorgeous post.

bonddi said...

I know how you feel. For some reason in my art journal I started listing all the countries I have been to...up to 10. Summer feeds the wanderlust, not just for travel now but travel in time. Sometimes I go out to my front walk paved with old stone and look at the tiny embedded fern fossils, wondering what the world looked like when they were growing in their summer so many thousands of years ago. Then I notice the weeds growing between the slabs and become all angsted:)

Cat said...

I love that I know where you are.

The Noisy Plume said...

Loving your soul, sugar puff.