Kai and I have been reading Frost out loud. Reading poetry with this child renews poetry's influence on me. Having never read Frost, Kai reads without prejudice or opinion. He reads innocently hardly with a past or a future. Each word is new to him.
Astrometaphysical
by Robert Frost
Lord, I have loved Your sky,
Be it said against or for me,
Have loved it clear and high,
Or low and stormy;
Till I have reeled and stumbled
From looking up too much,
And fallen and been humbled
To wear a crutch.
My love for every Heaven
O'er wish You, Lord, have lorded,
From number One to Seven,
Should be rewarded.
It may not give me hope
That when I am translated
My scalp will in the cope
Be constellated.
But if that seems to tend
To my undue renown,
At least it ought
to send Me up, not down.
And when we continue reading from an Anthology of Love poems, he doesn't wince at any overly sentimental, in my view, line. He simply reads.
I don't remember what's it's like to read without prejudice or opinion. I tend to turn away from what seems too difficult or complicated to read or understand. I quit short stories when their complexity mirrors my life's own complexity. Move on to the next one hoping for simplicity or staccato or limited viewpoints.I've spent four days 'in bed' having contracted some cold or something or other. My system down, I got off the merry go round. The first three days I resisted getting off, but today has held me close to bed and the rain made sure to lull me down to rest. I am grateful to my friends who have supported me being sick and getting well. You can't change sickness to wellness overnight and you can't wish it away either. I've been sick and it's only this afternoon as I am fully on the mend that I feel like myself again.
It's this way:
The birds eat from the fence, seed, so provided with love and ache, the way he thinks of them and cares for them from the inside of himself. The rain is wet outside giving the grayness a wetness too. And then there it is: feeling more like myself. Standing downstairs, apart from my bed, powerful, moments ago in the kitchen, looking out the window, watching these bird eat his seed, thinking of my dinner and realizing I wasn't carrying the burden of being sick so heavily. I felt more like me. Well. Not quite fully, but on the mend.
Cheryl called it the upswing.
I noticed how nice it is to have gotten off the merry go round this whole day. I haven't done anything like I do when I am well, and being sick has me realize how well I am doing when I am not sick. How fun is that!!!???
And all I got to read short stories, (here's the school by donald barthelme) poetry, and baking blogs, this being my favorite, smitten kitchen (you won't believe her photography, especially the granola bar recipe).
I got to settle into the astrometaphysical upside of being down. Thanks God.
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