RETURNING TO BLOG AFTER AGES

This has been on my mind ever since. To return to this blog and return to my sketch book, as work, bills, imaginary job lists, mindless and mindful scrolling/ surfing keep us so busy and distracted. Last evening I returned to my sketch book after ages and it felt sort of normal, amidst all the brain fog and things-to-do. As Frances Richey in her poem writes it the way it is:
Lately I’ve wondered
what hand guides my way when I am lost.

So here I am, hopefully more consistent, to share my worlds, doodles and all that must be done and seldom is.

The Return
Frances Richey

What do you say when you’ve forgotten

how the grass smells,

married to the dark

soil crumbling in your hands?

When the sun makes a bed for you to lie in?

When a voice you’ve never heard

has missed you,

singing down your bones–

it’s taken so long to get here.

Now I’m breathing in the mountains

as if I’d never left.

And when I go inside

I’m surprised to see a lime green worm

has landed on my shorts,

inching his way across a strange white country.

He stops and rises,

leaning out of himself–

a tiny periscope

peering from the glow of the underdream

where there are no symbols for death.

He looks around.

I place my index finger

at the tip of what I guess to be his head,

though I don’t see an eye or an ear,

or the infinitesimal feet

as he crawls across my palm–

a warmer planet.

Lately I’ve wondered

what hand guides my way when I am lost.

I can’t feel him

though I see him rise again,

survey the future, flat

and broken into five dead ends.

I curl my fingers to make a cup

and carry him like a blessing to the garden–

What will happen next is a mystery–

to be so light in the world, to leave no tracks.

(sourced from poets)

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Thank you and hopefully and meet you more often.

Vishwajyoti Ghosh, November’22.