Seeing little apples blush

I don’t want to discuss the summer’s progress.

I like to think the race to grow has just begun and that I’m ahead, fruiting where others blossom.

I have fruit envy bad.

I saw the strawberries come in green and

go out like lipstick on chipmunk smiles,

painting the paths where my hopes grow.

Even a porcupine feels uneasy welcome in my garden.

Now the blueberries

grow the first darkness of

their blue complexion.

I try not to stare.

Let’s not call it envy. I’m

Contented with the

riches I have all around me.

Things are good.

It’s all very good.

I should have thought of sharing

long before the chipmunk ran away with

the strawberry.

And summer is the farthest thing from a race. Though it seems to breeze past never to be matched.

Its net of memories ever expanding:

Hollyhocks, mulberries, peaches, bluegrass.

Everyone who’s lived and died is

in summer land.

So why the doubt and suspicion?

How high do the gifts have to pile before I

see the opportunity

to give up worry,

give out joy,

give in to love,

give over in lean times too,

and give my all to the All.

Of course I question and I wonder.

But I don’t delay for lack of knowing.

At the end of the day, the

expediency of trust wins.

The beauty of a young woman calling my name

Running to meet me saying,

“You forgot your card!”

“I’m so glad you caught me!” I said

“It’s nice to get outside and get my walk in,” she said.

For a second I felt we were twins, two sides of the same errands.

It’s hard to stitch the beginning of a day to the end of it. You wake up suddenly, the light in your eyes, and make a promise before you can hear or understand it. Feet touch the floor. Is this floor the turtle’s back? I’m trying to be more patient. My husband says, “don’t try, just do.”

I love that. Trying is such a joke. It’s a girlish habit of speech, but it really is funny. It’s like you take aim and then hit or miss the timing is out of the park. I don’t know if I can say girlish- if that means anything anymore.

I have a lot of mantras that I carry around with me, reminders to move like an angel, remember life isn’t a race, but that it’s good to strike while the iron is hot, paint fast, fast paintings are great, but it’s good if you’re not in a hurry, be light on your feet, but above all else think of others first, be a grace.

The purpose of sleep and dreams is to pleasantly bend, wind, and entangle the line of thought and feeling you carefully detangled and organized in the day. It feels so good and makes so much more sense that way.

I had a scary moment today. My leg seized up in a painful cramp out of the blue. I made my way to the couch and tried a few experimental remedies. I told myself I was okay, repeating it calmly a few times in different ways. I steered my mind above the pain but not too far above. And then two new ones I tried, and I think it was these last two that did the trick, not the least because they made me smile.

New thing one: “reset” by pressing both temples at the same time for one second then with right index finger swipe from left to right on forehead, just like you would do to turn off your iPhone.

New thing two: I press my imaginary button that releases to me whatever I want or need. Just like we tap our phones hoping to get love, attention, or money.

I am empowered with laughter.

I have life just like the little blushing apple.