Sometimes in the morning while drinking coffee, I want to write something. If I can't think of a theme for a poem or a song, I usually pull a prose topic out of the air at random. I just like to write stuff sometimes. This morning, I thought I would write a little about a Facebook friend (well, friend...why qualify it with FB?). She fell into my head at random. Or did she? Who really knows the workings of one's own unconscious? Who knows what connective threads are weaving what kind of web? Or what associative neurons are pulsing with a subtle conspiracy?
Stacey Mangiaracina [Man--geeah--rah--seenah]
What a mystery this woman is! I don't mean “mystery” as in “veiled behind some dark, gauzy curtains.” Stacey emanates too much genuine light for that. I mean more like a paradox. It's how she keeps you slightly off-balance. Maybe even a little dizzy.
She seems like a living flower, a colorful blossom. Her words are fragrant with a smiling dew. And there is a seductive, fairy-like quality about her. I wonder if she shrinks herself down in the evenings and secretly rides dragonflies through the bayou cane fields? If she does, I hope she doesn't drink and drive. I'd hate for her to slip off and splash down into the water.
Stacey is a breath of fresh air in a world that is dulled with cynicism and self-absorptions. She is like a flute melody rising up distinctively from the general orchestral moan of souls.
But...the paradox. She is not all light and fairy mist. Something else occasionally moves through her words. A poetic sense of love's elusive weirdness and of death's residual effects is also part of her substance. And that makes me admire her so much. Stacey carries those secret soul-burdens with a stoicism that is not moody or even neutral. It is a smiling, forward momentum into life. And the light of her smiling words...the fire of her fairy eyes...those things touch all who are fortunate enough to be her friend.
Stacey's Facebook page
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