And Then I Came Back to the Page

I sit here and wait. I delay, I pause. The sky gets
grayer outside and I wonder what keeps my pen
from careening across the page, dancing in its
own unique style, reminiscent of Martha Graham.

My early morning walks give me a unique view.
This morning, for example, I stood overlooking
the bluffs and saw the refreshed landscape,
moistened to ripeness from all the rain we
have been having.  Deep emerald green with
purple and yellow flowers laughing amongst
the tall blades of grass as they moved together
in the gusting wind.

The oilfields sit proudly beyond the homes
with the trees and yards and the river slices
through it all.  The fields are ready to provide
for the wealth of the valley – to fuel movement,
to empower freedom, to meet people
in their needs.

I remember Katherine’s pronouncement
several years ago as we stood at a spot
along these bluffs. “You have to admit it,
Bakersfield is beautiful.”  Back then I
didn’t believe her. This morning I joined
her chorus when I heard myself inhale
deeply as I said out loud to no one and
everyone, “Bakersfield IS beautiful.”

My child has tremendous foresight.

I move my pencil and speak to my notebook
in Internet Chat Talk, scribing BRB onto the
pages… saying “Be Right Back” which probably
meant I needed a drink of water or to respond
to a child’s need or perhaps to use
the restroom.

And then I came back to the page.

That sentence holds such passionate promise. 

And then I came back to the page.

And then I came back to the page.

And then I came back to the page.

Come back to the page.  When you leave,
return to that place where love lives.

And then I came back to the page.

Magic happens.

And then I came back to the page.

Joy overflows – fountains, in the right
lighting, birth rainbows.

And then I came back to the page.

Yes!