finally. after unfulfilled promises for 90 days.
it’s raining. here on the dry prairie.
there is the distant rumble of thunder.
and i can smell the earth beneath my window.
just the rustling sound of the drops on parched leaves…
and the sound of tiny streams running through the street.
it’s the only music i need. my heart knows a gratitude beyond compare!
my heart this day is as grey as these rainy skies.
i cried this morning to discover that buddy lost his fight with cancer.
at golden pines. where my friend kim rescues such as he.
he was an old dog.
just an old dog you say.
but oh. he had a lot of wag left.
and he spent his final days showing kim that he appreciated her rescuing him!
by joyfully rolling on his back in the sunny grass.
just like a puppy would.
only like an old dog who knows what life is really all about
i read the news. i don’t know why i did that today.
i hardly ever do.
there was a little 6 year old boy in it. his little body riddled with wounds
from the fighting still being waged by religious people in his country of yemen.
stupid grown ups
who’ve already had a childhood …
killing children while vying for power.
he looked up from the stretcher crying and said to his daddy standing there …
“don’t bury me!”
and his daddy said…
“i won’t. you are going to be well my son.”
and his daddy kept his word.
when his 6 year old son died a short time later … relatives buried him.
yes. his daddy kept his word.
a 6 year old child. who didn’t even know what the fighting is all about.
but who had seen enough of what it caused to not want to be buried.
dear diary …
my beloved elephants are being slaughtered by the thousands.
it’s estimated sometimes 5 every hour. so that their ivory can be sold.
for stupid knick knacks and jewelry.
they are highly intelligent creatures. they literally have families.
they feel love. and it’s known that they grieve. like we do.
in a recent documentary called ‘ soul of the elephant ‘ …
i watched as a herd of them walked past a big white elephant skull.
every single elephant in the group… every one… gently and lovingly touched that
bleached white skull with its trunk.
as if paying honor to its life. in memory of it. caressing it.
the people filming the documentary said it happened with every skull they
encountered. and there were many skulls.
then they walked past it. on their way.
what has all this got to do with this lovely rainy day here on the prairie
i don’t know. really. i know they’re not my usual happy thoughts.
it’s just that i’ve been thinking …
i’m so many things.
so many people.
how can i not be?
I AM that little dying boy.
i’m the old dog.
i’m the elephant.
i’m the cold tired frightened refugee somewhere in a strange land.
i’m the drug addict knowing i have to get well but unable to do it.
i’m the rich person with more money than i could ever spend . . .
and yet with an empty soul.
we’re all ALL of these things dear diary!
we’re ALL connected to each other.
how can we not be?
how can we live in this tapestry of life and not be?
but for now…
for just now…
i’ll be lighting the corners
and i’ll go sit by my window
and enjoy the falling rain.
the birds in the trees are rejoicing. so i shall too!
and more than anything dear diary…
i’ll know the sheer gratitude of living my own life
a small life…
here in the wren house.
on this dry old prairie… that today…
is getting its face washed!
til soon old bean.