Judy with reluctant hen, early spring 2010, during chicken workshop
Those Eternally Linked Lives 24 August 13, 2017
We forget: things change all the time.
People change their minds. Our
weather changes. Chickens like their
routines, but they change where they
roost, sometimes hide their nests.
On an old farm, despite neglect,
things grow. A Rose of Sharon leans
through the fence to say hello. Little
blue flowers appear on the Wandering
Jew. Figs ripen and some spoil from
all the rain. After a slew of problems,
a respite: a gift I’d given up on,
forgotten. I got hurt, but I’ve been
healing. I spoke some hard truth,
and was invited to speak again. I’ll
have students in September. My soul
settled in for my older age. I have
to consider my heart, my balance, and
how easily I forget. The weeds feel
impossible, but I know how to summon
helping hands. Wag and I do our daily
walk steadily. I work on manuscripts
I’m determined to publish; plant a few
more beans, find enough figs to sell.
My life resumes its normal rhythms.
Rain replaces the heat wave.
My soul is peaceful once again.