Entry 3/10/26

love poem from here

You say are you going to do something in your life and I say I am going to
the park.

This is something good I can do on the first warm day of March, the waters of which are thawing and everybody sprints outside because more than it is the end of winter it is the beginning of something else, being alive again, and with each other. I laugh about how little it changes and how much I love it and think to myself that those who love it have the most to give it and so I give all of myself. The city is wide and deeper than imaginable but it is not so indifferent as I once thought. I throw myself at it, into it, as if to attempt to merge with it, and there is something in the motion and the attempt which negates the outcome. It can be harsh but I resent that it should be called hard, as in inpenetrable or as in relentless, for if you look around a moment you will see that what it is is a living thing, pulsing, feeling very much, sometimes brightly open and sometimes needing only to endure itself, as each of us does, so that it may sing again. You and I too know what it is to have a body, a beating heart (the people), waters which flow through it and which freeze and thaw. Melting at a light touch the flesh of it, and bones for the sake of remaining. Thank God, I think, for a place that is as many things as I am. Lover, full of little lights as the sky dims, voices, birds.