19.10.11
17.10.11
The Wife of Baths Tale
I just took a bath. I suppose that has nothing to do with Chaucer's tale.......
It is a title I have had stuck in my head since 6th grade.
The story itself, in all its bawdiness and wit is but a fuzzed memory.
All these bits have been unearthing themselves of late, fragments and stories.
Instead of feeling trapped, I am experiencing a wildish glimmer of spring.
Instead of being stagnant, I am encountering flashes of optimism, a renewal of self-love.
I deleted facebook and I hope to keep away from the twisting coil of drama/boredom/artifice for as long as possible.
I am taking refuge inward. It is mid October but inside.... is new growth.
Lately I have been listening to interpretations of rather ancient music.
My favorite so far is The Song of Seikilos played on the Lyre.
It is a Greek epitaph dated to approx. 200 BCE.
Today I took a long walk in the cemetery with a friend. We held hands in silent, bittersweet mourning /exaltation.
I cooed softly to the graves of sweet little darlings who died before they had a chance to experience much life. Moss covered lambs perched atop 19th century tombstones, epitaphs that could barely be deciphered.
Wind passed through chimes that lovingly adorned (along with a plastic white dove) a more recent memorial.
On the walk home, a sunshower, two rainbows and a simultaneously dark/sun-drenched 'Irish' sky. What more can I do but be rebirth myself?
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