Walking to the river
I met many women walkers today
in twos, in threes
walking a dog,
walking a stroller
walking with a walker
I heard conversations
words I could not understand
I passed by an adult retirement home
glanced at people playing bocce
The sun was higher now
In crossing a street
my shoe stubbed the edge,
Like a lightning, I hydroplaned
on a concrete walkway,
For a moment I could not believe
large bruises on my knees,
palms of my hand
my stick laying in front of me,
my eyeglasses, intact
my bones, none were broken
A car stopped,
a lady driver got out, offered
to help me. I thanked her
I stood up on my own.
I arrived home to attend
to my wounds.
I was full of gratitude.
An extraordinary day
The books I am currently reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot and The Artist’s Journey by Marcia Shaver.
Jammed with the rocks at the riverbank
Submerged in water at high tide
Saved by a fisherman brought inland
Now you are with flowers along the walkway
Which journey will I find you again?
You can’t venture on your own.
Will you vanish somewhere
Or drift into oblivion
What will happen if Kierkegaard
or Salvador Dali find you?
I don’t think I will be dancing in strawberry field
I may write about absurdity of abandoned grocery carts.
Perhaps some ideas are astonishing
We think of wild things
Like kissing at the middle of storm
I will not be writing in Russian.
note: The book I am reading: Either/Or by Elif Batuman.
The walkers rest
The vulture hovers
The woman in red is nowhere
I find a penny for your thoughts
How often do we return to a place of enchantment
How do we “recognize the infinite value of every moment”
Rilke says, we desperately try to hold these moments in our hands
Today in my walk I found 12 cents of coins on the ground
Place them among the fowers
A moment of happiness
Not because of the new found wealth
It completes the wholeness of the universe
A new day
The children tell me: Be Kind.
The monk tells me: Listen.
My mentor says: Love.
Note: During my morning walk today I met again the woman in red. Photos from my walk.
fog lines the hills
a plane overhead,
sounds like distant thunder
I’m walking behind
a woman in red running
mild breeze shy on my neck,
kayakers riding towards the ocean
I pass an empty bench
an invitation, a luxury
I’m too old
to sit down
Mrs. Abstract will find me frozen
I have other ideas
like loose leaves in my notebook
let’s ride the tide
let’s go upstream
58, cloudy, low tide
a woman and her daughter run
a dog runs with a red ball in his mouth
he drops intermittently to keep up with his master
A grandma pushes a stroller
two other children walking and talking
vultures hoover, ducks hurry on the river
My morning walk to the river
find excitement in the moment
experience the goodness of the earth
voices rising, footsteps of children
soul of a new day
start a work,
a particular work
to find a worthy self
before a final stage
there is a longing
when work is done
life is still incomplete
seeking until the end
doing and giving
the highest region of life
Is it a messy tangle
or a real knot?
She disappears in the crowd.
note: Books I finished reading: The Present Alone Is Our Happiness by Pierre Hadot.
The book I am currently reading: Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie