Tomorrow...in lieu of today.

Today was a day of old, twisted into the seconds of the clock like so many before it. Should that cause me bliss of contentment or fury of complacency? I am pleased that I have been blessed to take another breath, another dance, another step and yet I am weary of stale air and silent ballrooms. I wonder, does anyone know what I mean? does anyone understand this feeling but I? I fear the hand of God looms above me ready to smite, for I am not joyful or perhaps because I have failed to bury the seed of this marvelous fruit so that it might grow and bloom. Perplexing isn't it? uncertainty is the petri-dish of discontent, the fungi of misery. Shall I push beyond this preponderance and say; tomorrow will be a day unlike the one before it. A gift that shall not remain packaged, tossed in the corner of a dark closet, gathering dust...dare I be so bold as to profess, I this simpleton, who knows too well the mundane, shall venture out into exploration and feast on the secrets of life, the subtle fruit of living. I, mother, wife, woman, shall bloom like no flower before me, shall grab these days of life that remain and breathe as though every breath counted for something greater. Dance as though I ruled the stage, live as though life depended on it...for indeed, life is nothing if not for the pleasure of living.

Deo Volente
August 24, 2010

The quiet storm

Two days of short, heavy, bursts of rain. I can honestly say this is the first time I have ever seen the creek overflow. As I watched the water rise and rush I started to wonder, not about the possibility of flooding but rather about the power of nature. I was pulled in by the sound and the sight of the creeks might and I smiled. If I were a daring woman, I would have stepped in just to see where it would take me, just to feel the power of this creek that for years was calm. I am much like the creek I believe, I have what it takes to power through the pathways of life, to break over the walls that confine me, to rush past the boulders in my way... if only, when the storms of life find me.

DV
August 19, 2010.

Everyone's a critic

I was watching the television and it occurred to me that most commercials are, well, stupid. I don't mean silly, ha ha, I mean pointless, so out there you are left wondering what the point was. Then there are a few works of true talent, as they all should be. The ones that have you laughing, singing along, the ones that catch your attention and leave an impression. That my friend is the difference between throwing something out there and a work of art. Needless to say it all got me thinking, what if I were to critic the endless commercials that seem to rule the world of television...maybe I will, after all, everyone is a critic!

D.V.