I took this on August 31, the intricate and beautiful and a bit overwhelming marble floor of the Basilica di San Marco in Venice, Italy. They do not stop at triangles.
Nothing flimsy here, folks. Well, actually I am feeling a bit flimsy at the moment, jet lag. I got home night before last. I could lean on something. Why do things feel tilted?
I am thinking about monsters That I am comfortable with the monsters in my dreams but terrified by the angels. Though I type angles.
But I also dream that all the angels fall
all are made to fall
they fall down then back up
when they fall down they burn
if they fall here
burn in the atmosphere
then they are red or black and burnt
and we think they are devils: monsters.
If angels are monsters
and monsters are angels
and they go back and forth
and I type angles
because everyone makes mistakes
even angels
and to make something perfect
is an offense to the Beloved
because only the Beloved is perfect
and ineffable.
Still the angels.
I am afraid.
So was Mary, sore afraid.
Monsters are easy: at worst they can kill me
and they never have
in my dreams.
And they are sad and alone and weep.
I comfort them.
Which makes them afraid,
because they are not used to being loved.
I wonder if I frighten them
like the angels frighten me.
And then I can understand a little of why the angels frighten me so much. I too am not used to feeling loved.
written September 13, 2023
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bread winner. But I can’t eat gluten any more and my lungs are too vulnerable for the work I love. So how bread and how winner? Maybe the angels and angles and monsters will tell me.
I fly home tomorrow. Meanwhile we have split up and I wandered around Venice much of today. I caught the pigeon in flight in this street. If I stretch out my arms I can brush both sides.
Baggage reorganized and no souvenirs except photographs and memories. Food to get me through flights, too! It has been a delight to travel with family and without oxygen.
We wandered Rome today, to the Pantheon first and the through layers of ruins to the Colosseum. It is so amazing to see and read about buildings from 2000 years ago or 1000 years ago. It appears itβs peculiarly difficult to dig the new metro line without unearthing more ruins.
I donβt think I can claim fashion plate on this trip. Backpack and hostels with a younger family member. I donβt envy the suitcases much because there are lots of stairs. We are getting around by bus, train, metro and feet. Our phones are happy to tell us which bus and when, though the when is not always right.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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