Old Age

Where will they hide, the feral cats?

Cranes have ancient places to migrate to

With years added to years one thinks

Of these things like pointed pursuits.

 

One idea takes hold of another idea

Like rising pitch of a siren hurrying to a destination

Cranes know where to go

And where to return.

 

Dreams can be deep in the subconscious

Will functional imaging know?

Subconscious messages wanting explanations

Who will quote them?

 

Somewhere new light is emerging

The eagerness is hard to stop

Shortening years do not dwell on losses

Not in darkness but in new striving.

 

Life is to be mastered and celebrated

Life can be full to the end.

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Sublime

Can I see it or feel it?

Above simplicity?

I walk to the river

The part of the world opens

Other walkers walk alone

Or with their dogs or with other walkers

Nature greets us in songs and colorful displays

Do we need measurements

And ask : Will experience be sublime?

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Tomorrow

We are  sheltered in for more than 2 months now. There are changes that everyone has noticed before: air is cleaner, less cars driving in the neighborhood, in the highways, the hills and mountains can be seen clearly. The world is new again.

But uncertainties remain. Vulnerability exposed. Maybe the same “vulnerability that songbirds feel every single day of their lives” as noted by Robin Wall Kimmerer., author of Braiding Sweetgarss.

Time is time. Not timeless.The pandemic reminds us of our impermanence.

There are now easings of restrictions. Our yearning for open space is more urgent. Will human touch be a strange feeling?

Tomorrow we hope to be curious again. Or maybe for the first time.

Tomorrow when I go out of the door I will be seeing a new world. One says, “ every beginning is monumental.” I will try to believe it.

 

note: 2 weeks ago I was hospitalized for 4 days. I was very sick with an infection. Not cobid-19. I was negative.

 I am home now and recovering favorably. I hope to resume walking to the river again everyday.

The book currently I’m reading or should I say I am listening at is Brading Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Appearances

107D4514-CF00-46F0-A676-7BB0B89F467EWhat is the danger of idleness?

Life can be an opposite of what you remember.

Ascending and descending from memory can be a restless dream

Until the rooster crows

Sometimes age doesn’t offer certainty but doubt

But should everyone experience endurance?

Amidst the stings you want to taste the hive

Look deep and make your own conclusion

We are supposed to use our imagination

A toil for every tree to build a forest

Does everything have to be clean and tidy?

Free of disorder?

Do we all have to come home?

The question can remain unsaid

But then it may appear as evasion

There are other challenges

Will they understand?

Cursory Way

708D2DA1-2224-4469-BD40-E883663D8C6BI have a mountain of books to read

Books are scattered everywhere in the house

I will call and ask you where to start reading

The garage is full of non-essentials

My hours need occupants

On most days I walk in the neighborhood.

Now is the time that I should go deeper in my learning

Not my usual ordinary way to please myself.

It’s sad to realize it takes a pandemic to wake me up.

Time is emptying like food on the shelves.

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Farther than before

I walked farther today than the previous days: three miles. I crossed Napa River on an elevated  bridge and connected to the river trail, to the downtown then returned home on another street.

It was 65 degrees, sunny with a cool breeze. I met along the way other walkers and cyclists.  We all practiced the safe distancing. There colorful flowers and plants and art.

I stopped a lot to take photos.

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A new reality

81658AAF-5D6C-47D2-9A20-137EF11DF7F4D3B33BE0-1D61-44BF-B041-68A3D96D5D8648CD0786-2971-40D8-9013-DA60303EA9F923BFC7D2-A92F-462E-93FF-B4BBD7C24759We are sheltered in.

Allowed to go out to take walks

Or get basic essentials for daily living.

I walk to the river for fresh air and scenery

The clouds form many disguises

The blue heron comes then flies away

Horses nonchalant in its movements

Tiny flowers adorn the lawn

My daily miracle.

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