Swimming the Caribbean
I walked Sadie tonight. That's not exactly news; we do that every night.
I had a very good day at work today. I got to work in one of my favorite areas with one of my favorite doctors. I even got to spend 4 hours working with one of my favorite nurses (Randi, if you ever discover this blog, that means you). The day was full of convivality and camaraderie. And not a missing finger to be seen...or not seen.
I arrived home by 11:45 after my "commute." I really don't want to tell you how long my drive to work is. You're already jealous enough about Barbados. After performing my doggie duties and usual post-work ritual (first of all...bra off!), I imbibed in some of my favorite liquid refreshment for relaxation's sake and settled in to scope out the happenings of the net.
I still haven't made it to Hedonistic Pleasureseeker but I'm coming, Baby! Real soon! Oh, yeah!
It was quarter to one by the time we went out. We walked around a couple of buildings and Sadie became far too interested in something I could neither see nor smell nor in any way sense. What it must be like to sense the world like a dog! While she strained at the lead I was not going to give ground on, I ventured to drift away.
I stood erect, tilted my head back, arms hanging flaccid at my sides (okay, one flaccid arm...don't disturb the reverie). As Sadie finally relented and moved closer to find a more acceptable and accessible spot, I fully relaxed my arms, breathed deeply then slowly exhaled. I opened my eyes to the night and the stars; stars I know.
Only part of me stood on the earth here in Pennsylvania. Half of me was carried back, and onward, to beauty I've known and will know again. The North American breeze on my arms became the placid water of a Caribbean that has so recently caressed me. I felt her brush softly against my shoulders, lap gently at my forehead, cool my skin, placate my restless soul, proffer what I needed most. I was gliding slowly backward; floating, suspended, aloft; opening my eyes languidly to stars I'd never seen.
Tonight, I was in two places at once and the pleasure was immeasurable.
I will carry her with me forever. Her scents, her kindness, her blessed and forgiving lack of pretense and perfection. Her gentle breezes. Her brief rains spattering my face; me floating, face up, in the water. The stars return within moments of the rain, spatter deeper into my heart. I will carry her forever and "good enough" will always be just what I most need and desire. I can go there whenever I choose. I will always carry her with me.
Not perfect.
Good enough.
Technorati tags: life / self-awareness
posted by Cheryl @ 12:57 AM
2 Comments:
Well, I'm sitting out on the patio with my laptop, drinking a scotch and FeedDemon comes up with this post. Considering your state of residence and rather prolific sexual references, I recalled a poem I wrote what seem like 100 years ago, though probably in the late 60s or early 70s, hope you enjoy it:
SEX IN PENNSYLVANIA
“If the amendment passes the State Senate, it would
be against the law to have sex relations in the State
of Pennsylvania if you are not married to your sexual
partner.”
For all of those who have tarried,
Gee, you should have married,
Or else stayed clear of Pennsy,
Where sex is married & not fancy,
Where adultery is chancy.
Oh, in that state of virtue,
What you don’t know won’t hurt you,
For there’s not sex in Philly,
Not with Joan, nor Jack, nor Jilly,
No more sex willy-nilly.
Pennsy’s bent on crime reduction,
So no more adulterous seduction.
It is time to sing your dirges
For pre-marital urges
Which the Pennsy law discourages.
If to be a nun, you do not wanna,
I suggest you move to Lackawanna,
Where sex is more accessible,
& not so suppressible.
It will keep your spirits effervescible.
If you’re still bent on roaming,
Might I suggest Wyoming,
For it’s difficult to be cheery,
When there’s no more kissing, Dearie,
Not in Pittsburgh, nor Harrisburg, nor
as far away as Erie.
Oh my God, RR. Was that for real? It must have been initiated between Montgomery and Westmoreland Counties. You know what they say... "Pennsylvania is two major, cosmopolitan east coast cities with Alabama in the middle." Believe me; it's true!
Do you know how frustrating it was for me to have missed a "sexual revolution" by only a few years? I didn't get started until 1977, married the guy a month later and grew up in NJ, where they've always had sex, so I was safe.
Great poem and obscure little slice of history, RR! Thanks!
Post a Comment
<< Home