Monday
May142007
Fields of wildflowers= impromptu poetry.
May 14, 2007
The rest of my birthday was amazing. We played in the park, and then we grabbed pizzas and went to meet up with friends, where I thought we'd eat and then do cake or something. But no, I stepped inside the door and my friend Christy said, "I'm whisking you away..." and off we whisked!
I felt as though I was doing something illegal.
"Are you sure?" I asked a few times, until I was satisfied that it was going to be okay. And then I said, "I'm just wondering about the children," and Christy assured me that the children were well taken care of. So I gave myself fully into the hands of birthday whisking, which involved Sushi! and (joy upon joy) a SPA MASSAGE. I loved the massage. I was a little disconcerted by the way the lady acted as though I should know exactly what to do. "You mean I should take all of my clothes off and then get under the sheet?" I asked, sounding prudish but in actuality just confused.
It was great! Of course, being me, I had to embarrass myself a little by emerging from the massage looking as though I'd mutated into a red-eyed tree frog. Somehow I seemed to be allergic to the eye pillow the masseuse had placed over my eyes, and they swelled up into flaming red balloons. The receptionist and the masseuse turned to look at me, and their serene faces quickly became concerned. I don't think allergic reaction was the result they were going for, but my body felt very relaxed, thank you.
I recovered as we drove to our final destination, a wee party at the home of some other friends. Once again, I began to ask about the children, and everyone conjured up a story about a homeless man who assured them he'd take good care of my kids. I finally cornered someone and forced the truth out of her. "Sara's watching them," she replied, and from that moment on, I could relax.
The highlight of the party was a song that Chinua made up from words that everyone in the room came up with to describe me. It turned out to be a little reggae ditty with the refrain, "You don't have club foot." There were lots of other sweet words that said nice things about me but that refrain was catchy as all get-out, and one of my favorite moments was the line "...and all your toes swing freely..."
We're home now, and I had a lovely day: cleaning, hanging my laundry on the line, moving furniture around. Renee and I drove into town this afternoon for dance class, which starts in a couple of hours. Looking on the bright side of things, I reflected, as we drove, that if we lived in town with all the benefits of a town and real live grocery stores and real live herb stores and real live thrift shops and real live coffee shops, we would miss out on this drive that still takes my breath away, every time.
The wildflowers this year! The wildflowers! The late rains came and gave us the prettiest wildflowers I've seen. Hills of purple. Pink clover. Poppies, wild orchids. I gasp, I snort, I can't stop exclaiming over the wildflowers. I mourn that they are so short-lived, that it will quickly become hot and the sun will scorch them.
if I could,
I would weave you a ladder of wildflowers.
it would stretch straight into the air,
and I'm sure that your feet would scarcely bruise the petals
you'd feel them tickling that soft underside of your foot
as you leapt up my ladder, laughing.
you'd rise above all those things that nicker and nobble
the smokestacks, soot clinging to your clothes, the mounds of paper
bills and to do lists and, well, and all of it
you'd leave the freeways and the dust, the stripmalls, as you held on tightly
poppies springing back under your feet.
lupin under your hands,
I can see you, eying that one cloud as a good resting spot.
the cloud that resembles your band teacher (from the seventh grade.)
I felt as though I was doing something illegal.
"Are you sure?" I asked a few times, until I was satisfied that it was going to be okay. And then I said, "I'm just wondering about the children," and Christy assured me that the children were well taken care of. So I gave myself fully into the hands of birthday whisking, which involved Sushi! and (joy upon joy) a SPA MASSAGE. I loved the massage. I was a little disconcerted by the way the lady acted as though I should know exactly what to do. "You mean I should take all of my clothes off and then get under the sheet?" I asked, sounding prudish but in actuality just confused.
It was great! Of course, being me, I had to embarrass myself a little by emerging from the massage looking as though I'd mutated into a red-eyed tree frog. Somehow I seemed to be allergic to the eye pillow the masseuse had placed over my eyes, and they swelled up into flaming red balloons. The receptionist and the masseuse turned to look at me, and their serene faces quickly became concerned. I don't think allergic reaction was the result they were going for, but my body felt very relaxed, thank you.
I recovered as we drove to our final destination, a wee party at the home of some other friends. Once again, I began to ask about the children, and everyone conjured up a story about a homeless man who assured them he'd take good care of my kids. I finally cornered someone and forced the truth out of her. "Sara's watching them," she replied, and from that moment on, I could relax.
The highlight of the party was a song that Chinua made up from words that everyone in the room came up with to describe me. It turned out to be a little reggae ditty with the refrain, "You don't have club foot." There were lots of other sweet words that said nice things about me but that refrain was catchy as all get-out, and one of my favorite moments was the line "...and all your toes swing freely..."
We're home now, and I had a lovely day: cleaning, hanging my laundry on the line, moving furniture around. Renee and I drove into town this afternoon for dance class, which starts in a couple of hours. Looking on the bright side of things, I reflected, as we drove, that if we lived in town with all the benefits of a town and real live grocery stores and real live herb stores and real live thrift shops and real live coffee shops, we would miss out on this drive that still takes my breath away, every time.
The wildflowers this year! The wildflowers! The late rains came and gave us the prettiest wildflowers I've seen. Hills of purple. Pink clover. Poppies, wild orchids. I gasp, I snort, I can't stop exclaiming over the wildflowers. I mourn that they are so short-lived, that it will quickly become hot and the sun will scorch them.
if I could,
I would weave you a ladder of wildflowers.
it would stretch straight into the air,
and I'm sure that your feet would scarcely bruise the petals
you'd feel them tickling that soft underside of your foot
as you leapt up my ladder, laughing.
you'd rise above all those things that nicker and nobble
the smokestacks, soot clinging to your clothes, the mounds of paper
bills and to do lists and, well, and all of it
you'd leave the freeways and the dust, the stripmalls, as you held on tightly
poppies springing back under your feet.
lupin under your hands,
I can see you, eying that one cloud as a good resting spot.
the cloud that resembles your band teacher (from the seventh grade.)
in
Inside My Head,
Poems
Inside My Head,
Poems 
I write short things here.
My author page is here.
My photos are here.

Reader Comments (13)
Rae, you have a special aptitude for joy. I love this birthday post, your completely delightful poem and your husband's sense of humour. Happiest of happies to you, from Charlotte in Germany.
"nicker and nobble" you are a genius with words truly.
I'm glad your friends gave you such a great day.
Aww thanks! How did you know I needed relief from all that nicker and nobble? ;-)
Love the poem and laughed out loud at the "you don't have a club foot", part.
I'm so glad you had such a wonderful birthday- well, aside from the red tree-frog eyes that is.
Thanks for sharing the joy you find in your journey-it helps us to look for our wildflowers as well.
Your poetry is delightful! and I totally enjoyed it! I think these things happen to you so that you can share them on your blog - swollen eyes from the cucumber oils (or whatever it is). Spa's are totally enjoyable and I'm glad you had one. My son gave his dad and I a certificate for one on our birthdays one year.
I love the wildflowers too - we were exclaiming over them in Victoria the other day - all the wild poppies and blueflowers etc.
Okay, I haven't even finished reading this yet, but I had to comment really quick about how much I laughed out loud at the whole massage scene. Priceless.
I was like that the first time I had a message. How was I supposed to know what to do?
I'm glad to hear that you had a joyful birthday.
Ahhh, I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you! Sounds like it was very special and you deserved it. My sister in law sent me to a spa once and I was the same way- they need to have a "What to Expect the First Time You go Spa-ing" book or something for us spa-illiterate people. I love the poem. Sitting on a cloud has always been one of my day dreams. But getting there on a wildflower ladder would make it even better. Let me know when-if you're coming through here!
If that is impromptu poetry then how good must that which you think about first be??? Scarily moving, I imagine. One of my oldest friends is a proper honest to goodness poet. I must find her blog addy to show you.....
Eva
"... and all your toes swing feely..."
No doubt due to those sensible shoes you wear =).
What a hoot! There must have been many laughs, and you must feel very loved.
You're a poet and you know it. Awesome.
it was your poems that drew me in, i read them on the stairs (our stairs) and breathed like a freed man. you my love, are truly astounding. the last line is perfect.
chinua
I found this delightful wildflower poem while looking for something to go with a pic of mine. It's such a wonderful verse! I've used it in the caption of my pic with a link to this page. Please let me know if you'd rather I not use it.
Thank you,
J