It’s nearly the end of May. I have not written a poem in more than a month — nor have I read many either. I’ve been in the thick of reading about life, the universe, and everything as expounded by Bill Bryson. Among other things. <\/p>\n
I’ve also not knitted or made art. I take that back — I knitted a little bit of a scarf I started Christmas eve<\/em>. It’s nearly done, but I’m usually so worn out from work I don’t have much eye for detail.<\/p>\n This week I will go up to San Francisco tomorrow to help finish a mural project and will supervise another corporate project in San Mateo on Thursday. Sometime in there I’ve got other tasks to get to, not to mention it would be good to get a workout or two in there. <\/p>\n My posts of late seem more like “to do” lists. Sorry about that. The poem below resonated with me, especially the last six lines. <\/p>\n Milkweed<\/u><\/p>\n While I stood here, in the open, lost in myself, –James Wright <\/p><\/blockquote>\n What are the small dark eyes that love you in secret? What delicate creatures surround you?<\/p>\n If that’s too esoteric, then you might might bend your brain around this.<\/a> Just click in the square and keep clicking in each new square as the focus shifts — requires Flash. (Thanks to Euan<\/a> for the link.)<\/p>\n And for a good if irreverent laugh, check out this movie trailer<\/a>. (Shout-out to Eden<\/a> for finding that!)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It’s nearly the end of May. I have not written a poem in more than a month — nor have I read many either. I’ve been in the thick of reading about life, the universe, and everything as expounded by Bill Bryson. Among other things. I’ve also not knitted or made art. I take that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[28,13,30],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1512","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-humanities","category-humor","category-quotes"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1512","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1512"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1512\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11068,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1512\/revisions\/11068"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1512"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1512"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1512"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nI must have looked a long time
\nDown the corn rows, beyond grass,
\nThe small house,
\nWhite walls, animals lumbering toward the barn.
\nI look down now, it is all changed.
\nWhatever it was I lost, whatever I wept for
\nWas a wild, gentle thing, the small dark eyes
\nLoving me in secret.
\nIt is here. At a touch of my hand,
\nThe air fills with delicate creatures
\nFrom the other world.<\/p>\n