Ah, yes, that's much better, sweet summer rain, enough to make the gardens happy and puddles in the road. My lettuce thanks you, my lilies thank you - both those who have arrived and those who are still getting ready - and I thank you. It's always so much nicer when the water comes from the sky instead of a garden hose.
Even as I write this, the sky is getting dark again, very dark, and thunder is rumbling, so I'd better type fast. I thought I'd keep it light and follow my last posting with a man's eye view of running away with a fantasy. Here's George, to tell you about his. He's just a couple years older than I, born in St. Louis in '51, and the barista has caught his eye.
"The Ineffable"
I'm sitting here reading my paper,
feeling warm and satisfied, basically content
with my life and all I have achieved.
Then I go up for a refill and suddenly realize
how much happier I could be with the barista.
Late thirties, hennaed hair, an ankh
or something tattooed on her ankle,
a little silver ring in her nostril.
There's some mystery surrounding why she's here,
pouring coffee and toasting bagels at her age.
But there's a lot of torsion when she walks,
which is interesting. I can sense right away
how it would all work out between us.
We'd get a loft in the artsy part of town,
and I can see how we'd look shopping together
at our favorite organic market
on a snowy winter Saturday,
snowflakes in our hair,
our arms full of leeks and shitake mushrooms.
We would do tai chi in the park.
She'd be one of the few people
who actually "get" my poetry
which I'd read to her in bed.
And I can see us making love, by candlelight,
Struggling to find words for the ineffable.
We never dreamed it could be like this.
And it would all be great, for many months,
until one day, unable to help myself,
I'd say something about that nostril ring.
Like, do you really need to wear that tonight
at Sarah and Mike's house, Sara and Mike being
pediatricians who intimidate me slightly
with their patrician cool, and serious money.
And she would give me a look,
a certain lifting of the eyebrows
I can see she's capable of, and right there
that would be the end of the ineffable.
~George Bilgere
As I was typing away, the rain arrived in sheets, the wind shook things up a bit, and George came to his senses, the ones that keep him here on solid ground. What a nice place to be.
un post vitale, mi piace! ciao e complimenti
ReplyDeleteThanks, Simo!
DeleteIts nice to enjoy that wet.I have watered every day trying to keep a few plants going.Ever since you posted your list of things to do in life I have pondered the thought of finding a soul mate. I see many people who might fit that category, sometimes as George observed for the moment they are near, yet never to happen.
ReplyDeleteWell, the list was ways people give away their power, so be careful about getting caught up in the soul mate idea. If we buy into it, we might also buy into the notion that we've been overlooked by the universe if we haven't found one. Is that even possible? Absolutely Not! That's part of the "danger" in that kind of thinking. But, if it's what you want, I do hope you find a companion with whom you share much common ground, can laugh and have fun. Have a wonderful weekend, Steve!
DeleteI love the poem, its wry humour and clear images.
ReplyDeleteHere in England it's flooding but the flowers in the gardens all look beautiful and so happy.
It is a fun poem with some interesting things to say about life.
DeleteI've been reading of your flooding problem. Odd weather everywhere, it seems.
I like this poem, Teresa, because it tells us about the ineffable. Instinctively, most humans do not like the uncertainty that is inherent in the ineffable, so while they may accept it for a short period, they eventually can't resist the desire to measure it, compare it, define it, categorize it, and label it, all of which is rather sad, for on the day we define something we also lose its mystery, romance, and inspiration.
ReplyDeleteDefinitions are inherently flawed, and thus the facetiousness in my title. I do love the poet's more lighthearted look at the whole notion of the ineffable, though.
DeleteRain??? Oooh gosh, we need rain so badly. I noticed this morning that some of the trees are turning. Very scary... Your pictures are wonderful. Love raindrops on flowers. I like this poem...really like it!
ReplyDeleteYes! And lots of it! My fruit trees are showing signs of turning, although the apple trees are loaded with fruit. It's a fun poem, isn't it? I read this morning that having fun might well be the most important tool we have for changing the world.
DeleteThe photos are beautiful Teresa. The poem, delightful. I am never disappointed when I stop here.
DeleteThank you so much. Sometimes, it just all falls together...
DeleteWhat a wonderful poem! I love it, and it is just wonderful indeed that you are finally getting a bit of rain. I also am thrilled that we are getting sun, finally our summer has begun! :-)
ReplyDeleteTo each their need. :) Happy summer!
DeleteAh, a warm summer rain, with puddles even! You are blessed!
ReplyDeleteYes! I wanted puddles, went to bed with that thought, and woke up to them! It was also a nice break from the heat.
DeleteTeresa -- Don't we at time lapse into thoughts of the perfect "whatever" -- only to realize perfect isn't life. -- barbara
ReplyDelete--- and then, it's back to finding joy in What Is. "Wherever you go, there you are," comes to mind. :)
DeleteOh, I loved that poem. Variations of that very thing run through my own head, in particular around a man in my yoga class whom I suspect is my soul mate.
ReplyDelete:-)
The rain came through last night, and the world is a new place. Again.
Pearl
And, undoubtedly, he feels the same. It's just a matter of time....
DeleteI really wish I knew the correct words to use that would let you know how much I enjoyed this. I really wish I did, because if I did, then I would plunk them right here for you.
ReplyDeleteThank you =]
Ah, very good, t. Love it.
DeleteThank YOU.
Loving what is. A moment here to pause and reflect, to enjoy and drink in. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, Galen. I hope your days without Sadie are getting easier.
DeleteWonderful poem.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad to see someone embrace Summer with its schizoid personality this year. Yes, it's so nice to have water come from the sky and not the hose. With this dry heat in California, we are watering everyday. It's never ending but oh, the tomatoes are loving the heat.
I am so grateful for that heavy rain. It was a real joy to wake up to.
DeleteOh, that rain sounds simply delicious right now, with our parched ground and everything turning brown. Even the periwinkle, that stalwart groundcover, is shrinking away.
ReplyDeleteIt seems to be feast or famine around here, a pattern that is not much fun for anyone. I did love the rain, though, and it soaked everything.
Delete