Once empty careful what you fill with
Look how far I can stick my hand in the cracks
Tread on me lightly
Perhaps the view would be better if I lay face down
Don't pull with your arms push with your legs
Really what good is a compass without a map
What good is a map if you don't know where you are
I want to lie with the tree that fell by itself in the forest - face down
If I keep pushing maybe I'll break through
Sometimes I miss the frozen lake and the hollowing wind
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8 comments:
Great Plan B/alternate advice/right brain wisdom.
I love the way you throw out these disparate gems of re-visioning and yet, you pull them together in places, connect the dots.
Keep pushing with those legs. You'll break through. I have a clue.
Bless you, you're on tree time now. No maps. (Or as Van would say, "No Guru, No Method, No Teacher.")
Definitely the legs: definitely.
thanks guys...by the way I just got emailed today to telephone interview Friday.
Morning, JS. I liked the poem although some of it puzzled me. For me the face down part works. So did the kid sticking her hand in a crack. Fun stuff there. Kind of solitary exploring.
I really like the news that you are to get yet another interview. Same place?
We've got rain!
Hope! & Hugs!
I came through San's blog...I love it.. good I found you.
Nice blog
lee: no a different company, sounds cool on paper.
Angel: Why thank you :-)
tee, hee, giggle, chortle
the wife
ps: what good is a map without me
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