the beginning of everything

Yesterday was the first day of summer, the longest day of the year, the shortest night. All the days of spring, so full of birth and growth, have climaxed and transitioned into a new season–summer–the season of light and fullness. What will this new season bring?

Last night Ren and I went on a trip to Target, just the two of us. He lost his pacifier yesterday–it is the original pacifier we brought home from China. He held onto it for almost a year before it finally disappeared. We got him a brand new paci last night and he seemed unfazed by the change. He embraced his new green one wholeheartedly. He continues to settle in. He continues to surprise me.

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I also bought a brand new journal during our Target trip. I opened it up this morning as I drank my coffee. Staring at that first blank page always makes me feel as though the possibilities in life are endless. What will happen in the days to come? What will be written in its pages? What poems will be conceived, what thoughts explored, what experiences captured, what stories told?

This all reminds me of one of my favorite poems, “At The Cafe” by Patricia Kirkpatrick.

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If I choose this window, this black-and-white notebook,
I must appear to be what I am:
a woman who has chosen a table
between her sleeping child
and the beginning of everything.

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