I Am Tired…

…but still pushing for blooms.

My alarm woke me up at 5:00am. I took my medications and went back to bed—weeks of trying not to puke my guts out after taking my meds have helped me realize that sleeping an hour or two, after the morning doses, lowers their nauseating side effects. I got back up at 7 or so… my flesh and bones felt like a frozen lump of lead… I passed out again, and didn’t get up until noon…

I’m starting to feel rather sympathetic towards Spring. I’ve seen her trying her best to push Old Man Winter away—we’ve had a few days that kissed 70 degrees Fahrenheit, crocuses and tulips are starting to sprout, dogwoods are blooming, and the blue jay that steals my peppers has been making rounds… Spring is moving forward, even when she has to paddle through Winter’s ice.

True Spring will get here soon… then Summer’s heated kiss… But until Nature, my will (and manmade remedies) melt the ice out of my flesh and bones, I shall keep writing my-Self awake.

What have you been up to, my Wicked Luvs? How’s spring behaving in your bit of the world?

Tulip Sprout

Asphalt Cries Red

I should know better than to visit the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads on days I scheduled for “no writing”. But I blame it on the Muse’s inability to control her Imagination… and on Marian’s talent to nudge creation… I blame it on Low Shoulder, too… since I can’t listen to “Through the Trees” without bittersweet melodies of love (now loss to this world) “pouring from my eyes”.

.
a bright bloom shrivels
when winter is lived too fast
and asphalt cries red

Baby Ghoul, by Gina Morley
Baby Ghoul”, by Gina Morley