A small dose of automatic writing for breakfast.
Sometimes I not only lose my place in the world, but I lose my place in my world.
And then something happens-and whatever it is, I remember I’m not half bad after all.
These moments take off like birds from a branch-fast and seem weightless.
I almost forget them. I almost don’t.
I’m working on sharing a new series of automatic writings I’ll be using a word i haven’t found yet to display. They are phrases that have come to me in meditation, on walks, and in times of reaching for understanding. This is the first in the series.
From Brooklyn we roamed
Like young lions descendents
We felt right at home
Things are looking up
A Pisa our family
Old art and new art
In an old place new to me
See how old/new see
Siren of water
Swept me through her blue canals
Sway with me she said
Eyes and a turtle
Opened up my perspective
At the 12 train stop
My right hand man tells me in Italy
When we get back to New York-I should be
his left hand girl and just take it easy
I’m slowly learning to do what feels good
And it feels good to roam around like this
With you all the countries we seek are home
In these months I’ve moved lost some old friends too
Hard times turned to goo made way for the new
Things are looking up I am on the mend
Such are the ways of family love friends