That kind of night where coherence escapes.

This was the kind of weekend that ends with me needing to write poetry.
But the words come slowly as my thoughts keep failing to unwrap from around my lesson plans and the kids that make me want so badly for them to be perfect. The corners of my mind are gently filled with the sunset that God gave Houston several hours ago.

This is the kind of night that ends with me thinking about Grandma D a bit too often. Wondering where the balance between hard work and chasing my selfish dreams lies, and wondering where my dreams should end and where my need to make the world brighter should begin. I push thoughts of traveling the world to the edge of my mind, partly to hope that they will get bumped off the edge accidentally and leave me staring perfectly into a future full of certainty.

This is the kind of night where I go online and order 14 poetry books for my class and hope that in them even one poem plants it self in the heart of even one of my kids.

This is the kind of night that I want to drive to the coast and stare into the surf and ponder how small I am. To stare at the waves as they wander into beach and crawl as far as they can up the sand to achieve their own personal dreams, and yet fit beautifully into the rythmic whole of the surf.

This is the kind of night where I do not have lesson plans that I am happy with tomorrow. And yet I need to go to bed and trust that they will work out.

This weekend I worked on lesson plans, watched a sunset, celebrated a birthday, bought 100 boxes of pudding and had a pudding fight, went to a greekfest- drank bottles of wine in the street while howling at the moon and yelling "opa!" to the crowds of dancers, revelers, and others who were finding solace somewhere in the hedonism, in the clinking bottles, in the illusion that all is right with the world. This weekend I had crazy dreams. This weekend I smiled at a stranger accidentally- and meant it. This weekend I talked to my family, and a friend from the past who means more to me than she knows. I tried to recharge my batteries, only to discover I am not powered by batteries, and I discovered that they are always charged- I just need to let myself take each moment as perfect and celebrate each moment seeking beauty everywhere. Then, and only then, will I be able to move mountains. Then and only then will I choose not to move the mountain, but rather climb to the top, lie down, and read the clouds for secrets and search for dragons in the sky. Then and only then might I find the honor in a simple day's work. And that is my goal for this week. I want to find the beauty in each moment of teaching and exaustion, and wait happily for the future to bring what it will.