I keep various notebooks and journals.
Some tiny, some much larger.
Others are leather bound, this one has
spirals.
I write cursive or script and almost never print.
Sometimes the characters I draw… a bit better than
stick figures – have squares and triangles that drop a
hint.
And then there are the rhyming words, the poems.
Written just for fun when life is easy or rough.
No thoughts of buy or sell, letting my mind
roam.
Feels good to free the mind from its cell.
Once a day, to let loose without a snare.
Climb a bonsai tree? Let crickets ring a
bell?
With pen and pad, the trivial becomes important.
The telling of what you can ruin or create.
Can you fish without water, or turn a walk into a
hunt?
– Matt Furey
author of One Breath at a Time
P.S. I thought today’s entry would come from my notebook, but as I began… something else wrote itself upon the page. When that happens, go with it.
