The breath of life

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Happy Easter!

Plans changed and I spent the holiday alone, which isn’t as desolate as it sounds. Clark doesn’t come to me often in dreams, but last night he was there with his arm around me for a long time. With reassurance like that I didn’t feel lonely. You know I love a “do-nothing” Sunday, and it’s easy when it’s gray like today.  I addressed the tax envelopes, first signing in all the right places. After that — nothing! I puttered and then I drew a basket of eggs. At the farmers market yesterday I bought those beautiful blue eggs from the special chickens, but painted these brownish anyway. 

Love,

k

... and here's an Easter-y poem I love:

The breath of life,

The spirit of life,

The word of life,

It flies to you and you and you,

Always the word.

         --Maori, New Zealand

inspired by a Cedric Morris oil