Sunday, April 15, 2012

bon dimanche!

A perfect Sunday afternoon after the nicest of weekends - Friday night Improv show, Saturday trip into the city to the Art Institute, cappuccinos at Intelligentsia, and to Fox & Obel (for dinner and, of course, a new box of scrummy Harney & Son's tea - Indian Spice blend with cardamon). Last night I got back to my room after walking from the train station in the pouring rain and lightning-filled sky to curl up on my couch in my red cotton robe and fall asleep reading while the rain tick-splotted the windows.



Breakfast after church at All Soul's with a large and laughing group of friends, and then some of us decided just to walk back to campus since it is about 70 and stormy and beautiful. I am now tucked into a corner of the Wheaton Public Library, with a view of the lush and verdant Adam's Park, writing a paper with breaks on pinterest and happy that it is spring.


My friend Brie told me at breakfast that she woke up this morning and realized that she had been laughing in her sleep - and she never sleep talks or walks. I told her I would try to write a poem for her, since it was too lovely a sentiment to pass by.

Poem for Brie

This morning I awoke only to realize that I had been roused
 by the sound of my own laughter.
What a thing! To be lost so lazily in slumber and find
that sleep, too, is joyful. I thought, perhaps,
that I had been dreaming of God,
or maybe of nothing. Either way my lips said to my belly
Come! Let us roam the night together, singing,
and maybe my soul met some precious thing in my sleep.
Or perhaps the Divine was alive within me,
 all through the wee-hours of the morning,
and so I awoke to the sound of my own laughter.




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