Blackbird Singing

Daffodil Spears with Snow

I don’t know what I want, it is that age old thing the thing of desire and craving and suffering.  I snooze happily on the couch while you talk to your lover on the phone.  Your dog kisses me, and I listen to your words of advice as they echo solemnly in my head.  Don’t accept it if it isn’t what you want.  Remember to watch for the signs, you know what to look for, you know what it is that you are drawn to, be aware, pay attention.

I feel this feeling in my gut.  Yep.  I got it I realize as I am there.  My expectations were based on this premise that I won’t get everything I want and maybe I shouldn’t be too picky.  I hear words echoing in my head, and it is clear as a bell, clear as a bell this truth.  Clear as a bell.

As the truth is ringing in my head I realize something else.  It is in some way exactly what I want, in other ways not at all.  And in this moment I become even more clear.  I know what is on the table.  Am I willing to accept it?  The leftovers?  The remainders of someone else’s meal? Served second or maybe last?

What questions arise in my head.  I always over-think everything.  I never un-think nothing.   But I am left queasy.  And concerned.

The blackbird sings ooobaleee as I take photos of daffodils in the snow.  But the solitary flower of an aconite against the longevity of dark ivy is what draws me.  I am drawn.

Winter Aconite with English Ivy


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