You’re talking to me,
I know,
and I sort of, mostly hear you.
See, I’m not quite here
(though not quite not) –
I’m somewhere else,
far away
right in front of you.
It’s not one place,
so I can’t tell you where,
or when,
or exactly how I came to be there.
Or even, truthfully,
when I might be back.
You’re frustrated,
I can tell,
but just consider this:
How wonderful to travel
without tickets
or borders
or worries about time and money
and a place to stay.
I’m lucky, I think.
Now…
…what did you say?
daydreaming
Is this spring fever?
Y’all, it’s beautiful outside today.
I always find that in that space between seasons – the end of one and beginning of another, when things first start to change – it’s hard for me to focus. I just want to watch, and feel, and experience.
Anybody else?
My plan for today was to get some non-writing tasks done and then devote the afternoon to creative work. But alas, it’s just perfect daydreaming weather, and I think I shall just have to go and play outside instead.
And I’m not even sorry.
(Well, maybe I’m a little sorry. Or, at least, I likely will be tomorrow. But tomorrow’s tomorrow. We only get one today, don’t we?)
Winter Daydream (A Poem)
Over the race
and into the woods,
just down the forest path –
there we’ll go.
In search of adventure,
in search of snow,
we’ll step and turn
and twirl and dance.
We’ll take this chance.
And if, along the way,
we find
a journey or a day,
we’ll know –
we were meant to be here
in this winter wonderland.
Will you join us?
Then take my hand.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 