A Good Year

Its funny how we measure things sometimes.

Three weeks into 2008, I am stressed, anxious and a complete wreck.

So here I am - on a quasi cold Jaunuary night, sitting in bed looking out of the window and the trees across the lawn and beyond the shadows at the pale moon that calls out my name and distracts me from updating my blog. Its a quiet night. Except the beating of my heart and the smell of coffee right next to me.

This could have been a night in Atlanta. Or Florida.

Only the year would be different.

Maybe I'm just a prisoner of my own habits.

So I like to sit cross legged on my bed and look at the trees and write these posts.

I have made an art out of smelling warm coffee as it brews.

Almost anything inspires me these days.

Maybe it means that I have a boring life.

What does it mean when- nights like these constitute 90% of my year and I actually remember what post I wrote on which night and which poem in which month was written to rhyme with the raindrops that serenaded me while I thought of it.

Maybe it means that even though I may not believe it and even though it may not seem this way and even though I may feel like I'm alone and waiting for someone or something I dont know of - maybe love, maybe a friend, maybe success or maybe a new dream -

I am infact exactly where the skies planted me to be doing exactly what the hand of destiny willed me to do and having a very good year and a very special blessed life.

Thank God I have enough.