Waterline

September 4

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.  Soothing but dramatic; I’m drawn to this transition.  I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.  The gift of one place to another calls me.  Change and transition exhilarate my senses.  Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea I feel the pull to watch life in response.  Boundaries are beautiful.  Borders allow safety and recreation, not just risk.  When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.

Do it twice, once with the pattern and once without.

*

The Naked Not the Dead

Because comfort is sometimes no comfort

I can shave my hair and walk bare in the naked world.

Removing pretense helps in unexpected ways.

Foolish action becomes formulaic

when you are scared or hurt.

I lived through the summers of blood;

the winter is not enough to stem the tide or heal the wound.

I have no want to raise the dead,

but how to save the living?

Poverty is the inheritance of so much misguided lethargy

and I must shear off the illusion of maturity

and let the children speak.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Heat Exchange

June 29

HEAT EXCHANGE

I stand in the shower and let the water run.  The water carries away my temperature in exchange for its own.  I leave the enclosure restored.  Mentally, a meeting does this for me.  I change hot topics for more moderate positions, cold indifference for warm regard.  Stepping into a group of my fellows carts off my excess ego and flushes my pride.  Isolation is taken and camaraderie left in its place.  I am always changed by standing amid the rush of sober minds and faithful service.  Balance comes from proximity and willingness.  Everything is reduced to letting myself get wet.

Measure your growth on a doorpost.

*

Exercising Futility

Asking the confused for explanation

is like asking a blind man the color of the sea.

It isn’t that he couldn’t tell you,

but how could you be sure?

To exercise futility is more than just a game

or the words to a song

your mother sings when lost or far away.

To take the fish out of water

and train it on a bike is meaner than I need to be,

but isn’t it my right?

Just to do things because they can be done

or try them because they can’t

is more the worse for everyday a tragedy in pants.

Puzzle out the little things and practice when you can,

for putting on the frazzled mind

is cruel to the poor sweet-hearted sot.