I got my mom a pinwheel for mother's day. You know the kind that is shiny and when the wind blows, it spins and spins and spins? That. It was so simply beautiful that it sort of caught my breath. There was other stuff with it, of course, but that was the best part of it. A child's toy. She said her daddy liked them, too. Looks like I've picked up another theme for my life. Does anyone else do that? Pick up themes? I have themes of home, of breathing, of stars, of trees, and now of pinwheels.
My poetry tends to hang on these themes, too. Mostly it seems to come out in rhythmic breathing or looking up into the sky (not necessarily at night with stars above). I think there is always the unspoken idea of home behind every poem. I tend to write a lot about being lost (not necessarily MY being lost, but losing or forgetting a memory or how to breathe or how to say goodbye). I wonder if they will continue to carry with me throughout the years. I guess I'll just have to wait and see. What's that cheesy email forward about people being in your life for a season or a lifetime. Yeah, I get that.
Happy Mothers Day!!!!
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