from My Pooch Face
It’s crazy how much I love this dog:
she’s silver strands if I am a crow
if a pirate, she’s my mountain of gold
by sea at night she’s the northern star
and my sun & moon & light near & far
(Joya picks up almost anything and turns it into a toy that she flips in the air, catches, chases, since everything is animate and joyful play in her world.)
“The writer should never be ashamed of staring. There is nothing that does not require his attention.“
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Claude McKay was born in Jamaica in 1889.
Wonderful images of friendship
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
~ C.S. Lewis
“Silence make the real conversations between friends. Not the saying, but the never needing to say that counts.”
~ Margaret Lee Runbeck