This is one of those something-and-nothing posts, which probably takes a lot of words, wended in and out of the neural pathways of your brain, and left propped up against the driftwood edges of your mind, to say a great deal of very little importance. Except it doesn’t, because regardless of the weft of the words or the wax and wane of meaning, there are things here of great importance.
The first involves a Sisterwife, who has been falling to pieces inside since the murder of her sisters, and whose heart is for poetry, yet never, ever on this, because it’s been too much, and the wrong time. But yesterday was the right time, and she did it – ohhhboy did she ever. So please, take a few minutes to support this incredible, brave soul as she raises her voice and turns her pain to poetry, and shares a mindblowing piece of spoken word which took courage even gladiators would honour.
The second involves my blogdopted sister, who is having a baby (YAY!) and who is also an author, who is offering BOOKS (for real ones) if you correctly guess the gender of her baby. It’s light-hearted, it’s fun, and this wee babby is a much wanted, already HUGELY loved wee thing, but we just have to wait to find out if it’s a Tommy or a Lily. So come and tell her what you think, and see if you get a gorgeous new read for your troubles. And just be NICE yo, cos pregnancy’s hard, and writing is hard, and blogging is fun, but you need readers and feedback and stuff…
The third is EXCITING because finally (*squeeeeee!!!*) I’ve convinced the widely lauded and unquestionably wonderful Jennie Saia to write for me as a Guest Bard. Her poetry is something else, and she didn’t disappoint. Allow me to redirect you (whaddya mean “again?” – what are tabs for?) to The Well Tempered Bards to read her fascinating poem
Which is sufficient for now, as it’s late (at the time of writing), but know that of all the blogs in all the world, you walked into this one, and right now, there are places which are perhaps more important to be. Somewhere there are anchors to help hold the adrift edges of the person I am right now, and some of those anchors came through this week in glorious style (check back tomorrow), yet somehow the drifting, like the tide, seems to swell again and leave me at sea, wondering whether I’m facing the stars above or the sparkles of the deep, and if it really matters anyway.
So I shall drift, not untethered, but careful of those ties, and aiming to hang on, hoping that those threads which seem like gossamer might strengthen, eventually proving to be bonds I can trust implicitly, without second-guessing or having cause to question.
In the meantime, the sun is shining.