The Art of Farewell

Goodbye my friend

sail on

the sea awaits you

words without end

Memories

Opening your school yearbook after so many years

memory are like high places we cling to

revelations can pain your heart

you want to resist but rawness is hard to hide

like a cry of a sparrow

eyes and face can reveal so easily

what is to inhabit bleakness of a future

or emotional existence when tethering from ordinary

but youthful exploits can ripen into awareness

mistakes can be forgiven

contradictions can come to resolutions

you can rise again after a wicked plunge

new leaf, new lines of relationships 

can bloom in extraordinary clarity

you are a survivor.

Exploration

There is no need to be frozen in dark alleys

To bear heaviness of danger

Or be afraid before opening doors

Or when standing alone in street corners

Don’t be oppressed by these ideas

Life is a wide horizon

Away from stairways

Express yourself to the utmost

Bon voyage

Explore, with full concentration, the world.

Never mind occasional solitude

A cloudless sky is not empty

When evening comes it will be full of light

The story will enter a full existence

Even when you close your eyes.

Lives of Others

An orphan she has 

Few stories to tell, few attachments

How could she show passion,

Or care for someone

But she knows where ripe plums are, 

Which mushrooms are edible

Where to find spring water, safe and crystal clear

How to be resourceful

Habit and prudence and street smart

She starts learning the constellations,

Learns how to be afraid and be calm

She looks at the flowering vines,

Sleeps like an owl and wakes up 

To her full height, realizes

Distances between trees, between her

And trees, her and others

She is a distance of her own.

Things she cherishes, go away

Teaches her gratitude.

Her beautiful eyes say, thank you.

note: The book I’m reading: Ten keys to Reality by Frank Wilczek.

I will have surgery on my right ear next week. The discomfort is tolerable at the present time.

Sometimes I have to take some analgesics.

LIFE TRAVELS

Traveling for so many days

435 bridges and 234 tunnels

Losing landmarks and diverting to side excursions

A lavish description of arriving somewhere

After getting lost

Like newlyweds entering their first house

Whatever the sizable differences are 

They can be traced to algorithms

Like sentences they have to learn because they are new

After awhile they can talk and understand

The end is an accomplishment

Carried by patience and time.

They are foreign to each other

Like a blinding snowstorm before beginning of summer

Afterwards seasons go uninterrupted, seem seamless

Though there are days of grief

Some days of longing, others of mirth

Ambiguity eases into familiar themes

They arrive to a place they understand

Life changes gradually into bliss

Remembering words of Aristotle

We yearn to reach the good at the end.

Musings on Sunday After Christmas

Hide in a shelter of trees in the woods and listen to avian conversations, sweet songs and chatter

Serenades in chants of love songs, birds flirting, time phrases

Simultaneous displays of affection

When evening comes, lie down on the meadow to ease you muscle aches and back discomfort

Watch the stars appear ten by ten until you can’t count them anymore

Your brain nudges the hammock of neural synapses connecting lifelines of attention and comfort

The fragrance of grass, beauty of flower garlands open your senses to a new chemistry

The body is intelligent in an unknown way and know what to subtract and add in wholesome well being before you yourself knows what’s happening.

Open space embrace with soothing air and mountain views like a sanctuary as if nature is speaking to you. And understand emotionally what the birds are singing. The secret is not what you imagine but what you feel.

You know you will need tremendous courage to follow your own rules.

Some songs and calls are fading

The birds are facing extinction

Encroachment in their habitats or human neglect

The birds chant offers a sense of place and time and peace

We are losing the outdoors richness when our winged friends leave or die.

Don’t abandon the birds, they are helpless pretty creatures and friends

If you don’t answer your questions you have to find one who can. Don’t presume you are the first one to ask.

A Day in the Life of

Though I will miss my lunch

I am not hungry to eat yet

I am exuberantly eager to walk to the river

I don’t want to confess I want to see her again 

A woman who walks with a yellow parasol

I do not feel embarrassed I do not speak her language

I feel sad for not learning the language when I was young.

Today is a different day

Everyone wishes “a somewhere to be”

The day when the lockdown begins

The day that nobody wants.

I want focus my attention to the pathway

Lined by sycamore, birch, maple and other trees I can not name

I am still astonished by soft touches of leaves falling on my head

And hearing crackling sound of leaves that I walk on 

A day of circumstances

One blue heron and 4 egrets gathered on the riverbank

All looking at the river

Two sea otters playing diverts also my attention 

Their heads bobbing up and under the water surface

I change my attention to the birds

They also sense my new interest

I experience the birds play of teasing

Two egrets fly away chasing each other.

Then comes a paddle boarder in the river

He bends down pulling back his paddle

Propelling himself down the river

Stands up, bends and paddles on the left

Propels himself forward again

Downstream he will turn around before he is swallowed by the sea

Paddles back to where he starts his day

Robust and happy for his accomplishment

The day may not be of bewilderment

But it is a day of sun but without rain

I’m happy to take photographs and write a poem

About how we live in a worried world

A reality we can change with our untapped power.

note: The book I just finished reading: Dirt by William Buford. Entertaining, funny, French way of cooking. Wonderful.

A Letter

Avoidance of annoyances repeatedly

Life remains in narrowed preferences

I know some words to add, some experiences 

To relate, must not let them fade away

I open my eyes in the morning

Utter my first intelligent thought

A praise may be or a prayer

To see, not necessarily to understand

Not inquisitive but to experience

Is it too late now to find the reason

For not knowing?

My relationship ends unexpectedly

Without any arguments or strained voices

A decent separation, not devoting time

To keep each other’s attention

The dinner loses the delicious taste

We become monuments to each other.

Sometimes one has to cross a perilous river

To deliver a letter of forgiveness.

note: I finished reading Piranesi by Susanna Clarke and Kant’s Little Prussian Head & Other Reasons Why I Write, an autobiography in essays by Claire Messud.

I’m reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke which I started reading a long time ago but never finished and For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway. All these long reads in the time of Covid.

Once

We meet once in a farmer’s market

You are selecting a peach, I’m buying okra

Talk and walk and laugh

You spin a loom, I wield an ax

Gather, break, understand

Happy when together

A long beautiful day we wish each other

Before we wave goodbye

Cups of coffee and talks

Walks along the river

What is abstract 

A question of enchantment 

How do we measure 

Content or duration

And weight 

Are dimensions important?

The Bird of Prey

One bird perches in a tree

The other rises up towards infinity

Then dips skimming the river surface 

The tide starts flowing up the river

I have a glimpse of one’s life

It’s Thursday

I will be dining with a friend.