Prayers for peace

I’m showered and tired and tucked up in bed, wondering how my first appt with a new psychiatrist will go this morning. It was a difficult weekend as I’ve been pretty sick. I’m behind in my homework and my house also some time spent on it. But my front garden looks good; lawn mowed and edges trimmed, pots nearly arranged in groups and roses pruned lightly. I bought a small lawn mower, an outdoor broom, and a set of grass sheers this week. It’s been very hard on me, gardening in this heat. For my troubles I got in today to find most of my potted roses kicked over in the yard. It’s demoralizing.

Very little else that I need to do have I done, but Zoe had had a run down the beach, I have clean clothes, there is food in my fridge, and I’ve spent some nice time hanging out with my girlfriend. So it’s not all bad, and this week is a quieter one for me, so hopefully I’ll feel better and catch up soon. The beach last night was beautiful, a big halo surrounded the moon, the tide was out with long sand banks reaching into the water. Clouds rolled slowly in, masking the moon and turning the clear water to milk. There were no sea creatures this time, no little lights, no sea weed, just the water and the sky, the far off music of thunder and the taste and smell of salt. Almost I feel alive, nights like this, the sand ringing with our laughter, mango juice running down our arms. The pain recedes, we’re hidden safe in the night, and all the demands of the day are far away. Far above us, tiny bright stars burn white in the sky. If only I could stay here, if only it could stay like this.

I come home, alone, to swap which roses are having their dry roots soaked in a big tub of water to save them from the effects of being un-potted. I curl into to bed with a book and the churning stomach of an appointment early tomorrow that I do and don’t want. May there be sleep. May there be peace.

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