overflowing

these are the days of running-out-of-words.

yesterday I watched three flowers bloom, one right after the other, pushing petals out in increments until they popped free of overlapping grasps. today the late-afternoon sun is shadowing itself through the blinds and over the flowers, over their riot of fall reds and yellows and pale striped pinks and purples. my desk is a little more alive than usual. and at the risk of sounding like a completely hopeless romantic (which, I freely and somewhat bemusedly admit, is what I have morphed into after the last two and a half months), I feel that way today as well. so this, I find myself thinking, is what it is supposed to feel like. effortless. overwhelming. running-out-of-words.