I’ve been gone from the blogs for a little while, since this semester has been quite a difficult one and I haven’t really had the headspace to write. I’m hoping to come back soon, but, in the meantime, please accept this meager offering.
I’d paint you a walk along the river,
in this nimbly crafted post;
I’d tell you how I love this place,
about its gentle paradise,
all in prose that takes your hand and dances.
You’d get to come along on my adventures.
Sometimes, though, it’s just a place.
Not all adventures
are good. No place is a paradise.
simply flows, like time. This post
is just some text, which hardly dances.
Recently, I’ve had dearth of dances:
This semester’s place
permits no space to breathe—no space to post.
And yes, there has been time for some adventures,
but on the darkest days, I miss the river.
How could I call this paradise?
Then again, there is no paradise
except the one we find ourselves in dances,
the joy we find in fiery sunsets by the river,
the beauty in this sometimes horrid place.
We help ourselves to all these grand adventures.
(and some of us, we take those times and post!)
IHTFP and IHTFP.
In between the dances and adventures,
I smile at the river; I write a happy post.