Appetite

On most nights,
I feel the hustling hunger of anxiety 
Hunting me down.
It comes trembling through my dreams and
Leaves my forehead feeling hot and throbbing.
It forces me to get up and pace the floor.
Why won't you leave me alone? I ask.
It's not personal it says. 
It feeds on my energy.
I am feeling consumed.

Slice of Heaven

Some rides are remembered forever as a little slice of heaven...

 

Contained Fire

From Melissa Pierson:

The brake pads close like a vice on the front disk. The bike is heavy and is unbalanced at rest, waiting for the human to help it become its true self. With a push of a button, the engine fires and there is contained fire only inches from the riders knees. With a twist of the throttle, the bike launches and becomes as stable as stone. On the road, you can look at your shadow chasing you. A moving portrait in the medium of light and asphalt. 

Vernal Equinox

It is spring now in the northern hemisphere with the promise of new life, warmer weather, and longer days. Although today it is gloomy, and cold raindrops are falling like ice picks, the daffodils are trying their best to hold up their heads and the forsythia are festooned with bright yellow cheer. I heard robins and cardinals hiding in the trees calling with their gregarious voices and bluejays crying in their sharpness. The grass is greening. The magnolia and dogwood are blooming. So its on! The planet has gifted us another season. 

Mammals

 Hannah shared this:

"We are just silly mammals trying our best and eating snacks and looking at the stars and making nests with the people we love. The expectation that we will live up to the goodness of angels is a wrong one."

Thanks for sharing that Kiddo! That is a very good grounding reminder of what we are. 

Dried Leaves

What is this vaporous waif that comes at me during the early morning hours before dawn? I wake overnight to a misty apparition in the corner of the bedroom. A scentless benign gloom that lingers. Patiently. The hesitating snatch of mortality creeping at me in my dreams? I also smell it outside during the day in the decaying leaves that swirl down the driveway in god's own vortex. Is it a warning? Or just a gentle reminder to cherish the days we have. All things converge in the same ending,

Dream Smoke

History can be blurry, but after traumatic events, the clouds of memory drift over the vague horizon of the mind and haunt us. Tease us. Resurrected events long buried come back and reengauge us. What is this invisible presence that we feel around us? How close do we stand to the edge? Are we close? Life used to feel like the kind spirit of warm wind on a spring day that lifted the tree leaves and soared our kites. We need to preserve that half light dragon energy gifted to us from the day. Please speak to us. Remind us of the warm enveloping dream smoke from the sky.

Death Sentence

 We only have three minutes left to live. And then we take a breath and the clock resets....

Helmet Time

The wind filtered through my helmet and made my eyes wet. But I didn't mind. I rolled my right hand back and fed the machine more fuel. It is not a racing bike, but for these backroads it's perfect. It launches me up the hollows and around the twisty curves with thrust and enthusiasm. A willing accomplice. 

What I needed tonight was a temporary escape. When I get in the helmet, the phone doesn't connect. Texts and emails do not come through. It is an alone time when no one can reach you.

This trusty horse is responsive and does not judge. When I need her, she says, "Lets go!" And she is willing to run. 

Tonight we traveled together through the darkness of river smells and nighttime scenes, engaged in tandem moving through space and time. Feeling the cold air. Feeling it sweep around us. Pushing it aside and blasting up the hill rush on the way back home, we burned through the cold air with a joy that left my eyes crying.

Lightning Rod

My fiancé is amazing. How does she do it? She is like a dagger that is stuck deep into the wet soil for the purpose of plunging energy into the dirt. She sends their energy back to the earth and purges their pain. She is a grounding cable. The energy is zapped down to the planet. They call her and have conversations of vivid concerns.... stitches in their forehead... nightly sleeplessness... daily heartburn,... midnight wakelfulness... disturbances that upend daily activities. But a broken spirit is harder to heal than a broken bone. There is no prothetic for that. Where does that diverted energy go?

My woman is a lightning rod.

 

Panic !

I sat in the grass and waited.

What was I doing? The dog smiled at me. The dog was not concerned, and she was happy to just hang out with me. Her diminutive tail wagged. How wonderful it would be, I thought to myself, if life were as easy and simple as involuntarily wagging your tail. Maybe that is how some people live? I don't know? I have tried but I have not achieved that relaxed life style yet. I need more practice. 

As for myself, I had to call for help. 

She came and helped me up off the ground and took me inside. She said it was a panic attack, but that I should not punish myself. Punishing myself appears to be one of my involuntary gifts. I don't know why. She gave me bag of frozen peas from the freezer and put them on the back of my neck. She sat me down in my favorite reading chair and waited with me until I calmed down.

I don't know what I would do without her. I am grateful for her patient and tender care.