22 November, 2007

The Farm Journal


Words get sparse she said from her vantagepoint. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to know what I meant by not meaning anything. "Words get sparse but beautiful when you are sad."
He bound into the room from the closed doors of his bedroom, reminding me that I had returned home to write. He was paying for all of the utilities... I had nothing to show for it except for a few stories about animals. Some poems about Christ the Tiger,some quilting circles, long walks to nowhere in particular and a half mast kite. Despite all the fuss over liberation, it is rarely in the man's heart to notice the feminine talent of expending energy keeping the world together, the family together, people together in one piece. With this in mind I knew
that this meant things were going to improve. That one must look up.

In the past 5 months my life has taken a complete 360. Prodigal child returned home to the farm to repairs its leaky wheelbarrow, to find that I am a leaky wheelbarrow myself. That everyone I know is hopping around like a lop earred bunst. They say we
don't need union nor marriage anymore because we aren't dependent on each other like we were. I think that is hogwash! The western world needs union and family more than it ever has. I needn't pretend we are excelling! It is just that we have accepted our
semi private orbits as the closest we can get to the sun.

Ben Walters took this photograph of DCJ & I as we were crossing the Bridge to Blanahasset Island last week. I like that there is documentation of this day by a random,third party.

I am thankful for kindred spirits!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Im thankful for kindred spirits as well, whether they are far away or close at hand, or even whether they recognize their kindred nature or not, mostly Im thankful that Ive known u.

The Red Heart said...

I believe that kindred spirits should indentify themselves!

Anonymous said...

apparently u knew anyway, that is well.

The Red Heart said...

I stand firm.