If I were a prince
in thoughts and task
I would share a laugh with my classmates
and share my sandwich
I would play with them
and study together
I would tease my sister as a brother
not as a jerk
I would wake up early
eat my breakfast and prepare for school
I would be polite to my mother and father
not add anymore uncertainties
I am 10 years old.
I will obey my promise now
to be noble in thoughts and task
Why wait for a catapult?
I am extraordinary.
Mother’s attentive presence
he, like a flower,
blooms
Merrily I adjust the binoculars
birds perch on the sycamore tree
sharing exhilaration.
Books I am reading:
Keats A Brief Life in Nine Poems and One Epitah by Lucasta Miller
and The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki
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.
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 praysÂ
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
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 .
Wet clothes hang on a line suspended on two poles
On windy days wave like captive souls
A passerby pauses as if trying to recall a forgotten task
A boy walking the opposite way
Tries to understand between fascination and true insight
He remembers he should get home before Angelus
Clouds darkening hurriedly in the horizon.
Hummingbirds suddenly
seem to be everywhere
Chasing each other
or hovering over the lavender
The morning fog rises gently
You are standing in the midst, smiling.
I look at you and start talking
to myself.
You ask why ?
My way of clearing my mind
sometimes it gets crowded with thoughts.
Don’t you get frightened
when it gets empty?
Maybe that happens
when someone you love leaves,
walks away.
The hummingbirds leave one by one
and my friend
I am alone again.
The fog returns
I feel cold
I linger awhile
before I return home.
note: Books I’m reading: War and Peace. I was persuated by an article about Yiyun Li reading War and Peace once a year. And reading it along with others-Tolstoy Together.
Also reading Inseparable by Simone de Beauvoir.
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.
note: I finished reading Bewilderment by Richard Powers. Re-reading Helgoland by Carlo Rovelli. Reading for the first time Paradise by Abdulrazak Gurnah, the new Nobel Prize winner in Literature.
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