claiming our daze and our days on the prairie
this morn we went on a wonderful field trip to the city airport…
14 children swarming a quiet and safe space that holds huge things
mr. doug was genuine and happy, sharing his plane
a gift to each child indeed
and i have had this image skipping through my mind all day
the wide expanse of black pavement
with brilliant bolts of yellow
common ropes swirled snake like
i wonder…what i am tied down to?
oh, the weight of that…the burden it can seem.
so, the question i like more:
what ties me down?
what is my rope?
my piece of metal secured in the ground?
and is there slack in the rope?
or is it pulled tight tho never to break?
am i always tied down?
only when it’s rough?
when i have a windy spirit?
how many ropes are waiting?
what if one is being used?