One Step At A Time

Walking steps you to the future

like butterfly stories that spur conversation

greeting each bend with anticipation

The challenge of routine, increasing strength

of repetition, the practice

like contentment of a simple life

You will tread paths of regrets and sadness

riverbed exposed, colors of trees changed

when survival is perilous.

The future belongs to you

Don’t be afraid.

Wednesday musings

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I felt content like a girl who danced on the first day of summer.

Walking to the river when the day’s temperature is 85 I saw 3 butterflies flying, the white heron resting on a rock on the river bank with only one fisherman braving the heat.

I walked with frequent stops under shades provided by trees. A cool breeze made my walk enjoyable without soaking in sweats.

I finished my 2-mile loop without suffering from heat exhaustion. Shortly after I arrived home Mrs. Abstract arrived from her aquatic exercises from her friend’s pool.  We fulfilled our daily routine.

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Note: Mrs. Abstract had a zoom-meeting with the walker’s group from the Women Guild this afternoon. I had my zoom-meeting with the NV Writers this evening. This coming Saturday I will have a virtual discussion in my Book Club. She will have a zoom-meeting of her college friends  (6 of them) on Sunday. They meet virtually every two Sundays since the Cobid. They have a yearly reunion.

From the balcony

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I am sitting on a chair,

eating an egg cheese sandwich

next to a table where

a blue jay is alighting

my seem absurd

The surprise is I’m not surprised

a natural way of recognition

maybe a sacred moment

an angel disguised as a bird

a simple intimate detail of grace.

Below on the walking path

mountain hikers indulge the outdoors, sunshine

somewhere, everywhere the virus rages.

Reflection

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Invent reality?

Is there a minimum of thought

One has to do everyday?

 

She is playing a guitar

and humming then singing

about ideas and consequences

then stops and starts writing furiously

“Examine your own courage

if you can get up every morning

with a better will than the day before?”

A cat comes, nozzles in her arms

She touches her with equal affection

then she looks at me and exclaims:

“Is it sad or meaningful or ostentatious to say—

I hiked Switzerland the whole summer?

Or I hug cows to relieve my stress?”

The cat jumps, goes to the window, sits purring.

 

Time folds, distorts harmony of living

Why bemoans the loss during the pandemic

Thousands are dying, millions lost their jobs,

thousands are lining up for food.

 

Time has changed unlike any other time:

A call for one another to stay together.

Happy Independence Day

I walked to the river before noon. Mrs. Abstract was doing her aquatic exercises in a friend’s pool.

The day was sunny with a warm breeze. Other walkers were enjoying the day. The fishermen were patient. The boaters were in full colors.

Happy Independence Day.

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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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Under a tree

Under a tree

A young boy returning from a walk to the river

Stops under a tree, glances at its little shade

Pulls from one of his pockets an orange

Starts peeling, dropping the peelings on the ground

Cuts a slice and puts it in his mouth.

Smiles, then resumes his walk.

 

I continue my walk towards the river.

A Palm Tree Blooms.

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Accumulation of solitudes, tumult of the heart diminishes 

until it’s just a whisper, light as a leaf

You have been longing 

to know your real self

During your walk

or when alone in the river

You feel your deep affinity with nature

with other creatures

Alone with the blue heron

or with other traveler

Pandemic awakens your consciousness,

shakens by injustice.

Beware when all the running stops

numbness sets in and silence.

Out of weariness and withered trees 

love will rise.

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Questions

We talked for hours

We compared our separate memories:

notebooks, cupcakes, candlelight dinners

Coming out at night after we ran out of dreams

Our arms were still empty

and waiting

like two anglers standing on a river bank

reviewing the science of angling,

studying the river landscape

Where are the insects?

the shadows, the deep hiding places

silence of pride and pleasure.

Imagine if life is timeless.

They pause for lunch.

Do the fish miss also the fisherman?