maybe its just spring

I am well, life is delicious, I laugh loudly several times a day, love and am loved, and look forward with pleasurable anticipation to many things on an ongoing basis. My energy is ample for what I need to do, and I have many choices and not a lot of stress. I am busy and a bit tired, but from performing actions and pursuing things that have meaning for me.

At the same time, I feel inclined to dawdle, get muddle-headed and forget small details, and fantasize about just bundling up for a few days and doing nothing. It's not about resting up. It's more like backing out, and feeling like that would feel good for a while. Usually I charge up the hill, either that or roll down pell-mell, cackling with glee. Right now I'm sitting partway up the slope, grumbling a bit because the grass is making my butt itch.

I get this way in the springtime. Life goes on with merry goofy goodness, real sadness, sour injustice, extreme beauty and redemption that anchors my faith in the meaning of it all. I stand beside the flow of it for a while and say, "I am not part of this." I go through the motions like an actor, but inside I stop (or at least slow substantially) while it goes on.

I do this every springtime. I have since I was little. Today it found me again.

Here I stop.

There it goes.

question: did you ever?

mompoet - tuning my fork to a glossy green rhythm, still alien to my winter ears