Calm and working

Another one is soon. A couple of days and I’ll release her. My house is creaking with heat and water. The heartbeat of wood and stone is not like our own. There is no rhythm, I can hear, but it does not mean there isn’t one. A whisper, a knock, a ding. Each doorway is speaking to the next until my house is full of conversation.
I’ve been terribly busy at work, but calm. A calm I haven’t felt in a long time, a lightness I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m working and calm.
I’ll be working tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finish my poem. Hopefully I’ll be done early at the office to enjoy the sun. If not – I’ll enjoy the night and all the sharp stars that appear with it.
I’ve been dreaming dreams.

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2 Responses to Calm and working

  1. Ah, you are about to birth a new poem, dear Rachel. . . we are in the waiting room, expectant. Wonderful images of your house, its heartbeat, rhythms (there, even when inaudible), many rooms and conversation. This is, is it not, your inner house? The place in which you dwell is dynamic, awake, expectant, too. And I love the label you wrote into the category box ‘ when the sun shines inside.’ L, C xo

    • rachvb says:

      Thank you, Claire.
      It is my inner house, yes. Not my intent when I wrote it, but we are not always in rhythm, we have multiple doors and creaks. We have rhythms upon rhythms. things are moving and working even if we cannot hear them.
      I’m glad you like ‘when the sun shines inside’ I have a ‘sigh’ for when things aren’t going so well. But I’m always glad when I can click the sunshine box. xoxo

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