Songbirds are visiting! Chickadees, towhees mostly. I must work to shoo the neighbourhood’s felines away. I disinfect the feeders once a week to keep rainforest mould at bay.
I’ve been reflecting on how different life has become in this new year. While the pandemic continues its inexorable spread, causing dread, fatigue and grief, other aspects have improved and I am far less isolated. I used to love a somber individual; judgemental, overbearing, withholding and embarrassed by my exuberance. “Okay, settle down.” No wonder it didn’t work out and, never again. “Exuberance is beauty.” -William Blake. I’m determined to spend my precious time with those who accept my flaws and idiosyncrasies and encourage my enthusiasm, expression.
JANUARY 1, 2021
She’d feared beginnings were over,
that she was caught in a maelstrom,
huffing beneath a perpetual
same-old, same-old,
that the annus horribilis
truly was eternal,
lockdown a revolving door reality show,
Morpheus at the helm
of each interminable day.
Hope gone. Stolen,
along with human desire,
physical contact. Libido
in stasis. Half-life.
Half-over.
Yet here she is
at the dawn of a new year,
dancing, as if at a party,
new beau-spurred,
new beau a gift
sharing turquoise and flowers,
new beau bedded,
awakened from her slumber,
transformed by a kiss.
In the morning light
dark chocolate in coffee
makes for a mocha.
New twist for the new year.
Things happen,
including the unexpected,
even within this odd limbo.
Life forces cannot be halted,
neither by virus nor firestorm.
And to her surprise
she finds that she is free.
Free to muse, free to expand,
free to chance it all,
free to say anything,
anything at all.
He wants to hear it all.
Hallelujah!
New is not over.