Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The summer sun tracks different

Sometimes I write to figure out where I am.  Even though I*m watching shadows, long spider shadows in particular, I also watch how the sun is bright on the cat, sprawled, or shines purple through the clematis on the living room table. From the chair in which I write these days, the summer sun is just beyond the edge of the window, which means I do not have to draw the shade, but can feel its warmth on my right arm.

It is day two of my internship and I am excited to experience what Wednesdays are like at the halfway house.

The summer sun
Tracks different
In the sky.
In the spring when I wrote
It landed in my eyes.
Now I can see.
It seems I always notice particulars,
My self
The beginning reference point.
We each need a place
To begin.

The cat finds the summer sun track
On the carpet,
Sprawls to catch every ray.
The spider between the window
And the screen,
Casts a long spider shadow
On the floor.
He is not as big
As his shadow,
But still healthy

Today I continue to make new tracks
Alongside the summer sun.
I make new tracks
In new summer places;
New shadows:
Sometimes bigger,
Sometimes smaller.
I am still the exact same size
God has made me.
Appearances perhaps to the contrary,
I am still
Just as God has made me.

No comments:

Post a Comment