The song I’m listening to at the moment is called “King and Lionheart” but I feel like the furthest thing from either of those descriptors. Actually, I feel down right now and downright weak, old and fat. The stress and fatigue have grown exponentially from each day to the next this week and I definitely haven’t been taking good care of myself (I love donuts but I miss vegetables…). Still, all the preparation and backbreak will have been worth it when I see my girl on Sunday and we begin the next phase of our lives together.
Also, I read a poem today in The Writer’s Almanac that really also slapped me awake for a moment. I’ve never really read much of Sylvia Plath’s work and I guess my generic expectation for her is not one of inspiration and energy, but the poem I read today left me excited and quite write-jealous. It’s called “Child” and I especially love the second line. Enjoy!
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose names you meditate —
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical
Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.
“Child” by Silvia Plath, from Collected Poems of Silvia Plath.
We are bruised and broken masterpieces…