Tide and Consequences

Low tide, 

59 degrees 

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


Morning Walk

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

How & Why

thinning darkness

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

The Root of All Things

A man measures the distance between the trees

The distance of the trees from the path

The distance of the trees from the river

He looks at the sky

His mind can roam infinitely

“Leaving behind unilateral view of things”

Man is not the root of all things

He is not the measure of all things

He finishes his work

Returns home where he tends goats

And bees and grows a garden

He is the village philosopher.

A battered penny among the flowers


Succession of concrete images appear in my vision:

leaves covered walking path, a white magnolia flower, white as a pearl, 

and a cat like fur covered dog

are simultaneous colors painted like on a canvas

I am not dreaming is a first question

the object is to pay attention

like a sincere prayer

I have to listen, voices may follow

I have stop my walk

rest a while, slow down the heart rate,

have a drink of water, and observe

I do not plan a note or few lines of observation

There are no benches  to sit on

I do not visualize poetry

but I am excited.

Walking, one scientist says,

can spark imagination

Excitement can disturb the world

the future will not be ordinary anymore

I can measure my capacities

Things still undone

The precious things about uncertainties

Keep me thinking

I can discern the variations 

like the kites flying I saw one Saturday on a beach

I think of you and the different children we will have

after we get married

I am feeling an enduring exuberance

I might propose to you tomorrow.


Books I finished reading:

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

The Invention of Nature by Andrea Wulf

The Archivist by Martha Cooley

Scenes In my walk to the river: