Morning to you all,
(A theme of ‘W’s’ today. Not sure Why)
Not wine this time that wrestled me awake. No, not even a drop. But the wind that whirls and the words that start to wind and wind.
And then of course the utter weirdness of the world.
If you try hard to imagine it all, so quiet and so seemingly still about, you would think it all fine. The world seems so beautiful outside while we wait it out. Watching and waiting as we all are. For what? And every now and then, taking the time to wander a little about.
We cannot afford to imagine what still awaits. It’s too whacky and worrisome in so many ways. It’s completely impossible to know. But wonder we do and then share our views – from our windows or wards or wherever. We weigh up our worth and some of us whisk or sometimes even whine. No, this latter is not wise. Think of the women and children, a wife inside. No willows or woods in which to hide. Or even weeds outside.
It can feel so weird and yet so wonderous at times. We’re all still trying to find our work, our way.
Mine is with words, most of the time. Not all of them here.
I never know what they are going to be until they wrench me from sleep. I feel as though I watch myself wake and then they walk with me, these words. They whisper and whisper, they can barely wait. Not even for a while.
And there we are. Another weekend gone-I hope not a minute wasted- and another week awaits.
I wish you SO WELL, wherever you are. I think of you all, each of you separately riding this same storm. All in our different boats.
Before I go this time, I wanted to share something with you. Not my own words but perhaps you will guess. It made me smile.
Beachy Days
Get up get up, we’re leaving now
Go pack your cozzie, don’t forget your towel
A perfect day, the perfect sun,
I’m ready for some beachy fun
Mum’s shaded glasses, propped on her face
While searching for our set up place
Sand leaks through my outstretched toes
Sticky sunblock on my nose
When we’re all settled, Mum’s towel outspread,
She gives her expression, and this one said,
Not out too far, the currents I dread,
I respond with a simple nod of my head
Then out I dash towards the sea
My mother’s glance watching over me
But just before I meet the shore
I stop to the sound of a thunderous roar
Looking up to see this monstrous wave,
And suddenly I’m not as brave
I turn to see my mother’s smile
Maybe I’ll tan with mum awhile.
Til soon!
PS. It’s not really a ‘work’ today. Happy Freedom Day fellow South Africans! Our road feels so wide and windy! And somehow wonderful. ( Now that is weird. That wind (to twist) and wind (the air) are such different words. But look exactly the same.
I hope next time to be a little more whacky! This sentimentality doesn’t always work for me.
Niki Malherbe 