Mother’s attentive presence
he, like a flower,
blooms

Mother’s attentive presence
he, like a flower,
blooms
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.
Clattering sound of falling kitchen pans brushes aside her reverie
Her eyes fix on the sea
Fog distorts perception of distance, silence ushers thinking confidently
She adjusts herself in the writing table
With a new ambition
She writes, her fingers trembling with words.
Evening crickets will summon her to sleep
The rooster will wake her before dawn
Seldom she considers to stray outside these boundaries
Her stories wanting to be heard
Like mute feelings suddenly freed from captivity
How to express the river’s yearnings
The delicate exposure of what is hidden
Abundant play before learning the alphabets
The forest changes, weather comes with seasons
She feels fresh facing open spaces, the deep and simple questions, enhancement and pruning
The mysteries of truth and moments of need
Finding her way in intricacies of language
If she has nothing to say, she stays silent.
She may play her violin in front of the llamas
Or she may hold the cat close to her chest
Hum a melody to its ear
Don’t let desire turn to dreaming and fades
Even when distance dims
She has to consider the end
What is meaningful to her
To flourish the goodness life
And encourage herself to cultivate
Habits of the heart.
A thought
awaken you from velleity
a summon to bear fruit
you lace your shoes
you start walking, an ancient habit
fresh persuasion of open air,
feelings of space and seeing
the outdoors, vast and hospitable,
slopping hills
you bravely ascend steps,
carefully accelerate descent
blistered heels and suffering knees,
and muscle burns
temporary distractions,
hesitation gradually fades
one step at a time, the trodden way
strength prospers and optimism lifts
exhilaration and healthy elements
you huddle a new circle, your kindred:
sway of stride, unhurried banter,
their voices twinkle in greetings
you don’t have to
but you keep a journal
the notches, tiny achievements
nourishing pastoral scenes,
joy of jotting experiences
the long walks
you observe the olympians,
their constancy
you wonder how they do it
the focus, the intensity
the magnitude of sacrifices
you weigh yours in gratitude
you try to understand,
is there time to exult or console
you are in your eighties
you dare to disturb life expectancy
in full measure.
Should I haiku
my way to you
light bends
The apple falls
flowers attract butterflies
bees circle around
Mothers wonder
children run to sounds of a waterfall
does enthusiasm measure distances
The kite laughs with the wind
free and unafraid
a boy watches
Inquisitive, often in motion
a bird moves from from to branch
to opening spaces
I decide to be better
procrastination flirts
catches my curiosity
The splendor of order
my thoughts and a nightingale singing
a pebble and thunder
The swan’s wings sweep the air
clouds coalesce like a quilt
the pond and I mirror the scene
The swan, lovely and silent
unruffled by wakes of passing boats
somewhere, a monk in contemplation.
Unafraid, swelling with confidence, she prays
the snow falls on top of trees
first week of December
My strength begins
paddles breaks the water
the ducks glide
The bell’s sounds of angelus
a moment of remembrance
farmers stand silent on the field
With darkening sky
poetic storm enters her vision
sharp and exhausting
Bowls and fields catch raindrops
seasons of need
umbrellas cover workers’ heads
The tide is flowing out the river
It’s 73 degrees and sunny
I greet a fisherman
Meet 2 pretty spaniels, King Charles spaniels
A runner with headphones
passes me
A duck needs another duck
Connect yourself to a wider world
Transcendence is not achieved alone.
Today is similar to yesterday
It’s 75 degrees today
A plane cruises above positioning for landing
A bird flies skimming the water
As if testing its flying skills
As for me, watching and remembering.
Sometimes you want to spend a day to idleness
Some people are not for greatness
You have to know which one to elevate, which one to endure
To choose one character is an act of courage
Dancing when you should be praying
When procrastination awakes doubt enters
You fast while in the temple of Weeping Women
To cleanse yourself
Tomorrow morning, early, you will visit the waterfalls
And enter the cave behind the falling waters
A shelter for you till beauty
And strength thread in your consciousness:
An armadillo waking
An astonishing reflection in its eyes
note: photos are from my wlak to the river on Thursday. The day is sunny and warm. Beautiful day to go out .
Life is not a simple flow of time
A lived experience
a taste of beauty
then taken away
Is there enjoyment in being immortal
though everything you touch is not permanent
a statue, a stone, unlike a snowflake
everyone will pass away
and you remain
immortal, you,alone
with all your elaborate memories.
Can we still ask
and live life’s hard question
or remain submerged in modern angst?
Or are we waiting like a jar
to fall into fragments on the floor?
Or do we bloom for each other on virtual reality?
In the reddening sun
we should not be content
just to be alive.
note: I finished reading the book, Paris in the Present Tense by Mark Helprin. About time, art and life and love.
What is after all
one chess game lost
kings, queens, knights roaming
bishops blessing 64 squares
after the 6th hour of play
though night is deepening
tired, vision blurred, distracted
there is another day
hours and hours of preparation
dawn will come
another game.
note: I’m sorry I have not written any new poems. I have been watching on-line Tata Steel Chess Tournament 2022 being held in the Netherlands.I have to get up before 5 in the morning. The games start at 5.
Books I’m reading: I have been re-reading Lord of the Rings.
Hundred tents and more than hundred pairs of eyes
bathe in the brightness of the stars
more than a hundred dreams and failures
In the morning they will swim and fish and kayak in the lake
They will close their books, remember quotations in their hearts
Create spaces for discoveries
Some will be filled, some will remain empty
Tension of equilibrium and displacements
Each day is different from the last
They may question accomplishments
and value experiences
The dialogue of thoughts that inhabits the mind
Like a breeze playing with the reeds
Come, the reeds say to the breeze,
Let’s dance.