Today is the first day of Spring. It feels wide open with possibilities, despite all that we know or fear. Above is a picture of our kitchen table, full of sketches and designs for illustrations to to a book that Michaela is working on. I love the mess of it all – in the background is a ceramic bird sculpture she made that had such character that it needed a story…
I looked for a poem that somehow captured what this scene brings to me. This looking is in itself a pleasure—digging deep into the old Proost poetry collections, finding poems like encounters with old friends. It feels like such a mess of possibility and beauty, much like the table above.
In that context, I chose this one, from Talitha.
Lift up a stone, by Talitha Fraser
Lift up a stone and
You will find me there
I am in the hole of
Your doughnut
The spaces between
The stars
I am down behind the sofa
Cushions with the lint and
Loose change
I can be seen in the raindrops
Sliding down the window pane
Smelled in Johnson's baby shampoo
Heard in the drawer opening
To put away your clothes
In the soft folds of the wrinkles
In the corner of your eye
I am there.
