Now The Answers Will Come
Passion, is this it,
A tingle
Where ne’r was one?
Passion, is this it,
Flesh touch
Against the silk?
Passion, is this it,
Restless nights
Steals slumber’s bed?
Passion, is this it,
Heart yells,
Faster your pursuit?
Passion, is this it,
Knowing anger
Refuse contain it?
Passion, is this it,
What’s felt
When ’tis not given?
Wee hours came whisper stirred my slumber,
“Know my thoughts start winter’s thaw,
Thy desires smolder as mine within me.”
Awakened found her there ’twas no stranger
For sleepless nights had shown her there before.
O’ Twitter train, take me, leave me where I’ve not been,
For there are those I want to know in places else I could not go.
A couple of tweets back, Twitter whisked me to New Jersey where I came to know Annie. Annie speaks of peace and feathers. I’ve never met Annie, not directly, and maybe I never will. But I know she has a sister in Ohio, a sister she loves very much. Annie wishes she could see her more often. Annie has not told me this, but I know it is so.
Annie sends encouragement to our men and women who serve in harm’s way. She recognizes the great sacrifices they make. I know they appreciate having her support. I like that Annie assures them this way. I bet Annie has an American Flag somewhere in her little house.
Mostly, Annie talks about feathers and pens and writes in innuendo. Her allure is her mystique. I would welcome Annie as my neighbor — as long as she did not lose her mystique.
I have seen photos of Doris in Canada, each one sporting her infectious smile. I think Doris rarely knows a bad day or ever speaks an unkind word. If you are in a rough spot, you would be well to catch the Twitter train to Canada and seek out Doris. She has overcome her rough spots, found value in the lessons, and is anxious to make you better for what she has learned. This is one of the best things about Doris in Canada.
There is April in Florida, the northern part I think. She re-located recently from South Florida for fear of hurricanes’ wrath. She loves cats and lovingly disparages her experiences with them. You can tell they are among her dearest friends.
April shows a lot of courage in dealing with woes about her health. She has made humor her friend. April knows a lot of things, has strong opinions, expresses them openly. I think I could talk to April about anything. I like this about April in Florida.
Tom in Albuquerque paints water colors of the American southwest. I follow Tom’s work because his paintings remind me of my boyhood in West Texas. I have lived in the scenes Tom paints. It’s cozy in them. Maybe sometime Tom and I will sit down together for a whiskey and cigar in the desert of the American Southwest. I know we will both be at home there.
There is En in Nashville, a mother and a wife. At least I think she has been a wife. I can tell she has poetry inside her. I hear it crying to get out. I figure Nashville will lure it out of her someday. She will write the lyrics that say what is in her heart. I figure that is why she is in Music City. I’ll be listening for her songs. Perhaps she will tweet them to me some day.
Karima in Copenhagen is a writer and web artist. She speaks out about a lot of things: animal abuse, human rights atrocities in Africa, hunger and war, the kinds of things that bother most of us. She is very outspoken but I wish she was a little less angry. I worry about her.
I want Karima to teach me about Denmark, its people, customs and culture. But I think her anger sidetracks her because so far I haven’t learned much about Denmark. I haven’t given up on Karima. Mostly I hope she hasn’t given up on herself.
A thousand tweets or so ago, I met Jody in Los Angeles. She was my first Twitter friend. We share a love of baseball. She loves the Yankees, knows all about them, even though she never lived in New York.
When Jody left LA for her new job in San Francisco, she left in a hurry — left behind Twitter and her baseball friend. I miss Jody.
But I have a feeling I will find her again somewhere along the Twitter tracks — Maybe in another thousand tweets or so.
O’ Twitter train roll on, roll on.
Tweet me stories I’ve not heard before.
| I love words.
Words like serendipity. The sound of it has a mystical quality. I first heard it when I heard the upbeat song, “Don’t Let the Rain Come Down.” It was sung by the The Serendipity Singers. Sometimes I just say serendipity out loud. It’s spiritual. It sounds good to me. Maybe if I say it often enough, good fortune will find me. I like fortuitous. It makes me think of my rabbit’s foot. The one I lost when I was a boy. It was in the desert near my home. They built a Woolworths over the place where I lost it. The Woolworths is no longer. They went bankrupt some time back. They must not have found my rabbit’s foot. Synchronicity has an intriguing sound to it. I got really familiar with this word when I read “The Celestine Prophecy,” a small book, by James Redfield. Since then, I do not readily dismiss chance occurrences as coincidences. I let them linger in my consciousness. I don’t want to miss their message. I heard the word placid for the first |
time in the 3rd grade. I don’t know why I remember it was 3rd grade; I just do. It sounded good. It says a lot without being noisy. Sometimes when I am anxious I think of it. It calms me, leaves me tranquil. Have you ever seen a picture postcard of Lake Placid, New York?
I like lavender. It has a softer feel for me than purple. Some words are good remedies for what ails you. When I have a stuffy nose, I think of lavender. When I hear it I think of spring and I smell crepe myrtle – even if it isn’t spring. I like sub rosa, but I will not tell you why. (Some things must stay a secret). I like the word affable. It sounds like laughable. It seems humorous to me. I think people who have a good sense of humor are affable. I like affable people. Who doesn’t? I like to wander through the dictionary. When I wander, I wonder is there one life’s condition, one single feeling, one unique experience, one loyal act done for which there is not a single word that can say it exactly as we know or knew it? |