It will be difficult to thread a needle
If you are farsighted.
He loses his temper and throws the dental floss
He doesn’t want to talk or smile.
She doesn’t chase the last word anymore when she talks
She observes the three bees on the rhododendron.
He drives in the forest and along the coast
He is calm under the redwood trees.
She drops the vase filled with water and flowers on the living room
Her right hand is bleeding.
He helps her clean up
They decide to make amends.
“Seize the day,” the poet says
Helping others is the crowning praise.
It’s wonderful when verb and adjectives are used together
I like crabs dancing under the candle lights.
When pronouns drop in , it’s hilarious
All the nouns scatter.
They are laughing walking on the beach
Beethoven is a pianist, then a composer.
Experience of loss and sad endings are dispersed in life
They are secret ingredients of freedom.
She runs alone, alone with her own thoughts
The hardest challenge.
Failure, triumph, dried tears, lost tracts of time
In sepia then autumn raging with colors.
Embroidery is a sacred craft
We welcome new threads.
The day is new, let’s wave and embrace morning
Watch the fronds unfurl from sleep
Sun’s salutation, the first definition.
You are awake, look for the spider
Hungry and watchful and subtle
Experimentations in few moments of being:
A hole on the fence to see a world
Wide, bright, and far reaching
Turning a page, empty, eager to be filled
Words, sketches, and bouncing minds.
And you think the day is short
Catching a virus is misery
Coughing myself to exhaustion
My head feels heavy
Then as if an angel visits me
Everything is lifted
A moment of stillness
I feel so light
as if I can rise from the window like a kite
I feel eternal
As if free of all temptations
Time starts again
a tickle in my throat
A moment of each day.
Mrs. Abstract and I meet with our friends in San Francisco
and tour the art exhibit of Paul Gauguin at the de Young Museum today.
A discomfort in my walking
looking from one art work to another
a pebble in my shoe
Wherever you go
or wherever you stay
your heart, an altar of gratitude.
note: My one moment today is finding this mixed media art work in the school office of our parish church while I was waiting to talk to the school principal.
A moment of each day:
My special moment today is reading the blog of GretchenJoanna about her reading-challenge of Japanese literature. I learned about Makoto Fujimura, artist and writer.Link to her blog:literature
Fujimura wrote a book, Silence and Beauty, based on the writings of Shusaku Endo especially his book, Silence.
I have read Endo’s Silence many years ago and saw the movie adaptation, Silence by Martin Sorcese, recently. I have to thank you for bringing Makato Fujimura and his works. I watched the 7 videos by Fujimura talking about his book, Silence and Beauty. Here is the link:silence
Thud, thud, the thudding sound
of a luggage sliding Inside the car’s trunk,
a car driving fast the curves
that’s how my head spins
when I clean the sink of unfulfilled writing promises
I will try again
a new concept of a New Year
to tell a moment of each day
a gathered thought, an instant click of a camera
not a memorized notion of what a day should be,
maybe a spark of enchantment.
Will it make the day meaningful?
But questions do not meant to be answered
I will begin today.
Note: Like a mantra I walk to the river today. The day is spring-like low 60’s, blue sky, flowers and acacia trees are blooming.
The photos from my mobile phone capture the moment.
The girl runs alone on the beach
waves arrive from the other side of the world
I have stories to tell
A word of praise
For a blandest day
Can catapult self confidence
Can you have souvenirs
Without going anywhere?
Dimples show when she smiles.
The rain comes in January
Do not put you fingers
In the opening of sea anemones.
Lots to remember
She layers them.
One can bleed to death.
On the death bed
The most common is regret
All the postponements.
In lost conversations
She finds the missing pieces
How the bridges are formed.
One can read the sadness
The hardship of reconciling the past
The last word can be God.
note: The day is sunny, cool, and pleasant with blue skies. I started the day joining the other volunteers to pick up trash on the bike trail and along the railroad tracks of the Wine Train to celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. About 2 hours later after I got home I walked to the river.