friends and poetry

saturday night. 7:46p.m.
A beautiful evening in Indiana: unseasonably cool and fragrant.

I spent the whole of my afternoon catching up with old friends, Ariel (a doctorate student in environmental physics) and Karen (an amazing artist and carpenter). His mother Gayla Balter gave me a tour of their gardens-- a 3 acre plot of land on the outskirts of Lake Griffy and Hoosier National Forest. Beautiful country.
Gayla is one of those remarkable people whom you only recognize if you've been around a few times. For some reason I feel such a strong connection to her.

I always have meaningful conversations when I visit and I leave feeling content.

We spoke today of my trip to Japan--and the themes of the visit. It was first time since I had been home that I was able to share what I experienced in a more meaningful way. They were genuinely interested in Japanese farming and environmental issues, the perception of the Japanese educational system, recycling, its people, the food...Maybe this was the kick in the pants I needed.

The sun is setting and the birds have finished their evening song.
Been reading Greene's Heart of the Matter accompanied by a glass of wine but took pause and realized that some people are born with no poetry. What does that mean, exactly? They have no Rhyme? Rhythm? Possibly. Poetry--like Chemistry. Beautiful Poetry.

And then there is Madonna.

Here is what made me think of it:
"The poetry you read,Wilson, is too romantic. It does matter. It matters much more than love. Love isn't a fact like age and religion..."

Love isn't a fact like age or religion.
And the walls came tumbling down, down, down.
Phone wires are tough for me. I guess it takes practice--like writing poetry?