the mind of a poet, storyteller, the music she loves, tales she tells, the places she goes, sometimes more, often less.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
sponge that is my dry heart
Last night I spent the evening with an old, great friend. E and I hadn't spoken or hung out in way too many months, he is a big busy lawyer these days, fighting for the underdogs. But we spent a few hours together and I felt like a dry sponge tossed into the ocean. I came alive for the first time in a long time. I spend a lot of time in the same patterns and forget the extraordinary. Last night I was reintroduced to the extraordinary; it was a long time coming and appreciated. My dreams were vivid and I woke up smiling.
As I was falling asleep I received a drunk dial. I was entertained.