A Task
A point is tiny
but can make a difference
After a long series of words
can make one weary
a point or a period
can be a savior
a place to pause, rest
You can try
after a long succession of tasks
to breathe deeply
have a drink of water
a moment can brighten
you are ready
for the next task
or even kiss a girl.
A time of windy days, of falling leaves
Trees of fertile, intricate roots, anchored
Rarely do we enter the woods
As if we are afraid bears or snakes may cross our path
Thursday afternoon or any day,
Any ordinary day, is a day of sauntering,
Luminous time of spending an afternoon
Without concern of looking backwards
Not to imagine but to experience kindness of time passing,
To experience ourselves vulnerable and alone sheltered in the woods,
I like to think distant birds return because of me, a selfish notion of enticement,
Dreams die not because of unimportance
Though lustrous, their solace is celebrated no more
If you are struggling just to survive, are you missing much of life?
I encounter the homeless and heard of refugees
They crowd the margins, tiptoeing the edge of the cliffs,
The deep sea below and jagged rocks.
Each morning they look for a clean place
to be alone.
Life of abundance, life of scarcity, life of loss
And the liminal spaces between
What are the life’s possibilities and questions?
Intense experiences challenge the boundaries.
Solirude. Tumult. Arrested time.
The book I’m reading, page 37, asks,
“What’s the measure of your worth?”
Priceless, I shouted.
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
gravity returns
a tickle in my throat
We lose sleep because we want
To know if our life has meaning
What’s the meaning we are looking for.
I pray for the Holy Spirit to help me
I went to see my primary physician today. Seeing a physician is a confirmation of our mortality. We are mortals. We are subject to decay. It’s a morbid reality.
When we pray we affirm our hope for immortality.
We should realize both conditions offer us a chance for greatness. Greatness means steps of extraordinary work. Greatness is immortality in the eyes of man and God.
My doctor told me I have work to do.
A pause from blind wine tasting
Then walking to an open amphitheater
Empty at the moment but with a promise
Live performance and an audience in two months
That’s how we look at time
Flowing, not always unbreakable, sometimes sidetracked
Returning back at the table, a new flight of wine
It’s harder to know the correct vintage and varietals
Noticing mixtures of tiny deviations
We are students of perfection eager
To extend the reach with misses and recoveries
Without showing true ignorance
We faintly know how to breakthrough
The boundaries and gain insights
To master the test of senses
A simple title of sommelier
Or it can be to master the erotic pantomime,
The courtship of the birds of paradise
We will all receive a slice of blueberry pie.
A forest of parasols
can hold abundant rain
we can walk together, smiling.
They can fold like a fan
exposing us when we walk
old and getting older.
“Will you also go away?”
“Master, to whom shall we go?”
edgarone2