Soul’s singing tonight...
Tonight I feel like my soul is singing to me, for the first time in a long time. I can hear it in the wind outside, roaring and whipping its way through the trees. I can hear it in the pulse of my heart. I feel something forming, the begining of a creation itching at the back of my brain. It hasn't showed me it's face yet, but I have a suspicion I'll be up late tonight with pen in hand.
It has been a very good past few days, filled with family love and new possibilities. Some old, unspoken hurts are quietly being healed. I met a truly unique man, and had a wonderful day with him; sharing ourselves in a marathon conversation I'm not sure I've experienced before. I was informed that my lack of a vehicle is going to be remedied here in a day or two. I also discovered that our new neighbors, in particular the wife, are quite possibly the nastiest people I've met in my life. They might even top Grandma Juhlin for meanness. I suppose there is a balance to everything, eh? :)
I feel something in my blood. I think it may be a poem, but I'm not quite sure yet. Sometimes these things come onto me like lighting, and others they ooze their way in, puddling up in the shadows before they break free. I am getting tired though, I may have to sketch out what I can grasp, and hope my muse shows itself tommrow. If I'm right, and something decent comes of it, I'll post it here when I'm finished. Maybe I should go find a pen.
It has been a very good past few days, filled with family love and new possibilities. Some old, unspoken hurts are quietly being healed. I met a truly unique man, and had a wonderful day with him; sharing ourselves in a marathon conversation I'm not sure I've experienced before. I was informed that my lack of a vehicle is going to be remedied here in a day or two. I also discovered that our new neighbors, in particular the wife, are quite possibly the nastiest people I've met in my life. They might even top Grandma Juhlin for meanness. I suppose there is a balance to everything, eh? :)
I feel something in my blood. I think it may be a poem, but I'm not quite sure yet. Sometimes these things come onto me like lighting, and others they ooze their way in, puddling up in the shadows before they break free. I am getting tired though, I may have to sketch out what I can grasp, and hope my muse shows itself tommrow. If I'm right, and something decent comes of it, I'll post it here when I'm finished. Maybe I should go find a pen.