fickle

I've got stuff to share, things, decisions, even some movie reviews. I just don't feel like it. I have things I think to write, but I think them while trying to sleep, or trying to get my shoes on to run, or trying to do any manner of other things. But when I tell myself it's alright to sit down and write - I am tired and want tea. Well. So there it is. A bit witholding, a bit fickle, a bit distracted. Today is #2 by date for my fellow widow who shares this week and year. Week 105 for me. Wonder when that manner of counting will stop, and how I will feel when it does.

The Traceless

Like cream concealed in the heart of milk,
No-place keeps seeping into place.
Like intellect hidden in this sack of blood,
The Traceless keeps infiltrating traces.
From beyond the intellect, astounding Love arrives
Dragging its robes, a cup of wine in its hand.
And from beyond Love, that Indescribable One
Who can only be called "That" keeps coming and coming.

- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi


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