twenty four may

BEGIN AGAIN

“Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning, and under every deep a lower deep opens.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Begin again is the dry brush dipped into water. The soft tip touching dark blue, then medium green. The hand holds it steady over the welcoming canvas for a moment, then escorts it down to the wide, white surface.

She knows this first brush is delighted to be employed in this way. She is certain that each tool and supply she will be guided towards will co-create the picture that wants to bless the canvas with form and color.
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Begin again is the woman opening her purple 2020 calendar book with excitement. She is looking at the weekdays, the squares and numbers and day names that make up those blocks of time. She does the math, deducts the hours she will spend giving care, the appointments and commitments she has already made. She subtracts an approximation of the many miles of driving she will do, transferring loved bodies from place to place. What is left? What is possible? She begins to block out the writing time. Four minimum hours a week, six even better.

Whispers of worry float into her mind and cloud her vision. The scribbles already residing in the blocks on her calendar pages seem to expand as she gazes down at them. Will she be able to keep sacred those chunks of time she will set aside? Will she stay focused, or will she allow everyone else’s needs to usurp that free-ish time?

Those are the old patterns, she tells herself. In 2020, she must allow the writing to become one of the priorities. Set the minimum hours and let the pen form the word WORK in the possible spaces her calendar provides. Honor the time for writing as she would her other must-dos. The books inside her need to gestate and be born.
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Begin again is pink and lavender, with streaks of pleasing gray. Begin again is sweet and just a little spicy. It feels good in the mouth. Begin again wants to marry All is Well and settle happily inside her chest.

–Melinda Coppola

February 14, 2020 / 1 Comment

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2 thoughts on “twenty four may”

Alexa says:

October 5, 2018 at 6:34 pm

Your beautiful singing/poetry enriches my life, is part of the amazing tapestry of my life like the Trees and the Sky and the Crows. Such a wonderful blessing at this profound bend of the river in this particular journey of life for me. So appreciative that l appreciate it. A companion that arrives without notice like dappled Light.
Thank You! I have such profound Love for You.

- Melinda says:
  
  October 7, 2018 at 5:17 pm
  
  THank you so much, Alexa. It means the world to know my words matter.

Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

twenty four may

BEGIN AGAIN

BEGIN AGAIN

FISHING

Brown Girl Hair Has Left the Building

My Bread and Butter

Imagine the Harvest

My Daughter, the Foodie

Turn, turn, turn, turn

In Plain Sight

WALKING

Kind or Write?

Temporal Tryst

Perhaps his name is Three Dollar Bill

Hearing the Ocean in a Tea Cup ( again)

Pentimento

Tender

Hmmm. I thought I put me down right there

Dear Future Roadmaker

Inch by Inch

April is…

Our small eyes

2 thoughts on “twenty four may”

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