May 4 by The Running Son
Ha. Clever title. Why not. I am presently conversing with Jennifer about the Payday Thursday poetry event she is hosting. Except I’m talking to her in verse. iCrazy?, No. Because she is writing in verse too, and that’s the event and on the 9th, you should watch for it on her blog. The Canadian Poetry Goddess I call her. I don’t think she likes it and just may take it out in some catty prose. Who knows
So. I’m a cat person, and I have two fat-cats, sarah and D-Wiley. They are out of food. And their poppa cares, oh yes he doooooes (schratch schratch prrr) but I need to get them some. And call my own dad.
And eat some more, and get some aspirin, because my head is ringing but I don’t seem to care for now. Cool. Got that going for me, but I can’t forget the little things, the cats for one, and Buster Brown. But also comments no matter how small from bloggers, who’s lives I half know or some part or a lot, but still the whites of your eyes would be preferable, and the smallest movements of iris and eyebrow and laugh-lines and shakes of the head, little comments people make that are so silly and light, and precious in their way. All that, and the stories that are made during the doing of it, amazing how it all adds up together into a concept that exists in nature and reality, “friendship”.
Heavenly thought, Jim. And it happens to us all, if we are intentional in what we do and how we leave imprints of ourselves on other people. May they all be fun, and pleasant. But there must be a doing, directly, through the indirect ways people hide themselves, lock themselves up, their souls fragile and needing it’s own space. I understand. But I cant stop myself from reaching out, over the computer, out to the viewing space where there are many of me, or beings like I am, doing their own thing or having trouble with English as their first language, symbols and interest and different lives, and dreams.
Big Earth. Long Nights. Bi-polar rambling open the heavens and wow….
But jeez. The cats. shoot. And my friends online, as close as we’ll ever be, that’s OK. I need to take care of me, attend to fiesty d-Wiley, BE a friend, and preferably friendly, and come down out of Heaven, or the clouds.