Last night I dreamt someone came in and sat on the edge of my bed, all good, very loving. It seemed so real it took a while before I realized I was asleep and dreaming. Today I received unexpectedly in the mail some photographs of my dad. Time has nothing to do with who we are, how it unfolds, or when you feel it. Our lives are expansive, murmuring beyond imposed borders.


Stinging nettle soup


Opposite sides of anything are sometimes the least interesting part of it. Its easy to identify extremes, but the poem lies at the point where the two poles begin to become one another. A thorn (in your side) makes stinging nettle soup (for healing). Where your ceiling becomes the floor. Loss making way for gain. I’m writing a song now about this idea now; working title #thorn.
#dailymuse #singersongwriter #guitar