I have been an emotional wreck these past couple of weeks. In a completely unanticipated fashion, D’s imminent start of pre-school has unshackled anxieties and fears I didn’t even know lay buried deep inside my subconscious. A lump of fear has taken up permanent dwelling in my throat.
I had been wanting to re-read Papillon for a while now. There was a quote in it about judging; rather, about not judging. Something that Papillon tells two other escaped convicts when they inform him they had killed their mate. I don’t recall Papillon’s response verbatim but from
The phone call came last summer, shortly before I had completed my last course for the degree I was pursuing. There was a spot available in the Infant Room of a daycare that had opened only the previous autumn. We had put ourselves on the waitlist after a visit in
Clouds have a tendency to drift,
To change colours and to shape-shift
The sky bears mute testimony to their capricious dance
The leaves are no less mischievous,
How they cloak the world in canopies of green,
Only to burn scarlet and gold, shrivel up and drift away,
The trees now
I press my ears to the wet ground, and listen to the song of the brown earth,
My heart pounds my chest, the exertion of having run far too long
Now it slows down, falling into step with the dulcet sounds of the woods
I hear the leafless
The 100 Day Project
I am just an imagination, A respite from the present's realm, Far away from this day's heartaches, I seek shelter in tomorrow's shattered dreams...