Going Home

Our talk at the Hall this morning was especially lovely, and twice the speaker referred to us being on the brink of going back home.  We were always meant to live in Paradise, and very soon the restoration of the earth to the Paradise it was always meant to be will begin.

I must get back out on the doors. Sadly, today, gettting myself to the meeting and back, plus making us a supper, is just about all I have managed to do.  Everything hurts and I feel too shaky to drive very much.

I am still a bit herky jerky in The Geranium.  It has a fifth gear - technology which throws me a bit. What is it for? And am I in third?  Or am I in fifth?

I don't think I have ever quite mastered the physics of why we can't just have one gear and keep it simple.  And that would not have surprised my old Physics Teacher. Although given that the laws of physics seemed to repeal themselves in the Convent School laboratory, perhaps it wasn't completely my fault I was so hopeless at science.

"Now watch girls as I drop this apple and we will see Newton's law...  oh, well" (pulls apple down from ceiling) "write in your notebooks that it fell to the floor."

I have been asked if I can write a poem - a longish one - on the subject of Homeland/Motherland.  I haven't written any poems for years, so its an interesting challenge.  The impulse that lead me to write poetry has gone, so something else need to inspire me. IF I succeed it will appear here.

You have been warned.