All photos and written materials on this site © Maggie C, What Rhymes with Stanza, 2015-2016 unless clearly attributed to another source.
I opened my mind once;
pulled that ring on the pop-top lid
and peeled it back.
It made a scritchy noise, that
aluminum on aluminum sound you hear
when you pull the tab on
your favorite cheap canned beer.
My mind hadn’t been opened
in a very long time, and I was curious as to
what might come pouring out.
Imagine my surprise when
I tipped it bottoms up and found
Not. One. Drop.
The thing about opening a parched mind
is that it suddenly realizes just how
thirsty it’s been.
It wants to sate itself with new experiences.
New thoughts, sights, sounds, aromas.
New textures, emotions, connections, insights.
And surprises. It craves the unexpected.
Have you ever tried to replace
a pop-top tab on a can of cheap beer
once the can’s been thoroughly shaken?
With froth shooting out and
liquid overflowing, it’s impossible.
You wouldn’t want to close it back up, anyway.
Once unsealed, if you don’t drink the beverage fresh,
it just goes flat and stale.
I couldn’t close my mind again,
couldn’t make that pop-top tab
fit back into place.
But that’s okay.
If I don’t imbibe these new
experiences while fresh,
they will just go stale and flat.
Let’s raise a toast
to open minds!
(But let’s forego
the cheap canned beer.)
The Daily Post Discover Challenge: Open-Minded
Those held earthbound
are cheated of the birds-eye views
that put the vastness of life
into greater perspective.
Those perpetually airborne
miss the intimate details
that keep our daily lives
in grounded perspective.
Those who soar
with an eye for potential
and touch down
to solid reality
with a sound perspective
within which ideas
can take glorious flight.
The Daily Post daily prompt: Cheat
If we were having coffee, I would tell you I can hardly believe it’s almost September. I’m looking forward to the arrival of autumn and its cooler weather. The photo above was taken in mid-July, and now the flowers have all dried up and wilted from the recent heat.
This week I’m hosting my daughter’s miniature long-haired dachshund, and he and my Chules are doing their best to keep the lawn watered. It’s a losing battle, but I’m keeping them well hydrated so they can fight the good fight.
If we were having coffee, we might be sitting on my deck in the back yard watching the squirrels as they harvest walnuts from my trees. Sometimes in the late afternoons, the squirrels are so busy in the trees it almost sounds like the crackling of a campfire. Fortunately, Chules is a live-and-let-live kind of dog, so the squirrels don’t have much to fear from him.
My cat Sebastian isn’t much of a hunter either. The few times I’ve seen him actually catch something, he seemed quite surprised and rather confused, not knowing what to do next, and I’ve managed to release the prey unharmed (though a bit damp) from his mouth and send it on its way.
I guess I’d better get started on the day now. I can’t let the squirrels show me up with their industriousness. Thanks for sharing my morning coffee with me. I hope the coming week goes well for you.
#WeekendCoffeeShare is hosted by Diana at parttimemonsterblog.com.
It’s National Dog Day. Let’s celebrate man’s best friend (and world’s worst actors).
“I’m really sorry I did it. Really, really sorry. Um… which ‘it’ did you discover?”
“I don’t know why the cat dug up the water sprinkler, but I scared him away just before you got here.”
“There’s something stuck between my teeth? How embarrassing. Do you have a mirror?”
Cat: “If stealth were a diet, you dogs would starve. Some day I’ll teach you the fine art of aloofness.”
Dog: “You’re a real pal, cat.”
Cat: “Let’s just keep that between you and me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
life stories don’t end
they morph throughout time
as framed by
The Daily Post weekly photo challenge: Frame
I wanted to get away from it all, even though
I didn’t know what “it all” was exactly.
I just knew it wasn’t where I was,
and it wasn’t
sitting within the same walls and
looking out the same windows and
thinking the same thoughts and
falling into the same rutted patterns
of my daily existence.
I searched for someplace remote
but near civilization,
but with amenities,
in the wilderness
but not too wild…
and I found it:
in the woods
in a forest
that I had thought only existed
in my dreams,
and it was
sitting on a porch
with my closest family members
looking at wildlife and tall trees and mountains in the distance,
thinking more expansively in the vastness of the forest,
falling into new patterns of peaceful companionship,
and while getting away from it all
I discovered that “it all”
is actually a matter of perspective and
exactly where I am.