I pick up a new book, wanting, willing myself to step into my best, IDEAL self. How many times have I tried, searching for ways to be better? Always hopeful, always seeking. I smooth the notebook paper, bustle about looking for a pen. Cup of coffee, lamp on. I stare at the pages. One set is filled with words that I hope to take in, words like magic beans, words I will swallow, and that will take root inside me. The other set of pages blank, empty spaces waiting for me to fill, where I will note my questions, copy out passages, savor small and large triumphs of understanding, a PANEL of white waiting for me to fill it up. I pick up the NAVEL orange beside me, pierce its peel, and watch the oil spray out. I breathe in the heavenly smell, anticipate the bright taste and soft texture. Abundance of nourishment – for my mind, body, and soul. Balancing the book in my lap, holding a slice of orange, I am ready to begin again.

Georg’ann

Invited to visit my brother’s lair.
In midst of grime, piles everywhere
he shows me his hobby.
A WATCH repair desk,
strewn with tiny bits and mini tools.
Drawers full of bands and faces.
He reworks discards with reverence.

Here his thick, clumsy fingers
and construction worker mass
become delicate, precise.
I SAVOR this tenderness.
How rare the opportunity
to be with this part of him.

His daughter stands quietly.
The moment broken by beefy
dog sniffing her NAVEL.
Her giggles pull me out
of bittersweet reflections.

Heather