even though I am not nearly as busy now as I once was. For the first time in my life, I have all the leisure time I want for painting, reading, playing music, hiking, knitting, musing, writing…yet, yet, though my pace is so much slower now, time is not. Not that I feel rushed, but more as if I am being borne along on a current like a leaf. And there is nothing I can do about it.
I might as well find peace in floating, and let myself be carried by a life force far greater than I.
Can any of you out there relate to that?
Here is a poem of reflection I wrote to go with the pastel:
TIME
It rushes onwards
swirling, splashing, foaming
carrying us all
A water fall's roar
mingles with spray in the air
somewhere downstream
What happens then to
these floating leaves and twigs?
Where do they go?
Marty, this pastel is just lovely! I only wish we had a print of this to remind us of you. We would so love to see you and John in person. Krysta asked about you a long time ago. She still remembers that we had a woman pastor when she was little. You would find her quite a "kick" and one you would have lively discussions with. She has been a licensed marriage and family therapist (MFT) for 5+ years, and Trysha has been a licensed music therapist working with mentally challenged adults and sick children for 3+ years. Much love to you and John!
ReplyDeleteI love it mom. I just love how creative you are with poetry painting and just love info the details of life. It never ends you know. We just go into the next room. Life to more life.
ReplyDeleteWhat Rachel said, Marty! Love you and miss you!
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