My calmest time is in the shower, where thoughts seem to float in and out at a pace that I cannot keep up with. I have often wondered if there is a tape recording device that is water proof, and how fun it would be to speak aloud what whimsy comes about. But then—if I tried to catch the wings with my verbal voice, would they flit away, out of reach? Is there something more subtle, less obtrusive in pen, hand, and paper?
**
Dear Moon, where are you today? In Aquarius, Ah…A flight of fancy, dancing with the glow, with the rainbow, dangling with green wings, posing before yourself, looking into the mirror, seeing, gazing, creating music with your hands, with your fingers. Swaying back and forth, holding me like a stringed violin; or a cello, plucking me into your very bosom, into your very soul.
**
I feel the water on my skin,
The soap suds washing away yesterday and tomorrow. I am now.
In the present.
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