Daniel's Window

Hello! It has been a very busy few weeks for me with work and family and my blogging family as well. There have been some great discussions here on the blogs, ranging from mothers to friends to freedom of speech. I have enjoyed them all and I know each discussion has added something that I will take forward on my journey. This blog has really come a long way and I am happy to be a part of the action. I thank everybody for taking the time to post such interesting blogs, both staff members and viewers. As I look forward to another beautiful winter season with friends and family, I also look forward to another year here on the blog. I know it will be a year full of ideas, debates, virtual hugs and a little learning every day. I’m going to stay in a light mood today (for me) with a few whimsical entries from one of my notebooks. Be well everybody!

A Days Journey

I left her in a pub in Cork
Because my charm just wouldn't work.
The day was grand, but not my talk
I left her there to take a walk.

I walked until the end of day
And found a castle on my way.
"It's Blarney!" said a passing drunk,
Up to the parapet I slunk.

Up there before my eyes I saw
The famous stone within the wall
A weathered space between two bars
That kisses had so sweetly marred.

The moment seized, my head reclined
I kissed the rock that challenged time
And as my lips caressed the stone
I was no longer there alone

For in that instant, I was lost
Inside a world that time had tossed
I brushed a million lips and then
I thrust into our world again.

The sun was low, I walked in haste
I knew this time I should not waste;
Returned to Cork beneath the moon
I reached the pub I'd left at noon

And lo, there sat my bonnie lass
Gently draining her wine glass.
I begged a pint, for her more wine
From Grace, the rosy barmaid fine.

I sat beside her with a smile
And talked a lovely wicked while.
She laughed at all my tales and touched
Her hand to mine, perhaps too much.

I reveled in her beaming face
I finally had my wits in place.
My journey had been worth the trip
For now, instead of stone, her lips.

Lesson

Walking alone, I used to think I was powerful
in the leafy-green, red-orange hue of ancient mountainsides;
learning to step without snapping a twig,
silently exploring the ridges and the sturdy pines.

It was often May before the snow would leave,
in vapor-lust, the tangled baby trees and tombstone trunks.
Sitting on the bald head of Shatterack, I studied Townsend far below
and wondered at the order of the green and brown and blue.

I shot down the slope at sunset, running, jumping, falling, rolling and slipping
across the little river and the muddy, mossy ground.
I raced the darkness to my house and banged through the door,
laughing, in breathless relief; I had finally understood the spring!