Choice

The leaves were changing colors.

Today on my third day 

of walking after the fall

I reached the river.

I saw a blue heron, maybe

a younger one, feathers paler blue

Bending down to tighten my shoe laces

I found a penny next to my shoe

I felt richer.

Is it a journal or diary

or just doodling?

Both need writing

and thought.

and  repetitions.

Fall and afterwards

Since my fall about 4 weeks ago I have not walked to the river until today. I walked halfway, easing my way slowly.

I felt good.

Yukka and palm trees shadow the sun

Thorns and leaves abound

Life.

Books I am reading:

Middlemarch by George Eliot

(with my Book Club)

Coming to Our Senses by Jon Kabat-Zinn

Walking

your eye catches 

light’s reflection on a spider web

a hammock hanging between 

a tree and fence

neurons interlaced to strengthen memory

a bridge for retrieval and deep learning

atoms, stars, horrors 

of war, how to be a shepherd

the interlacing of flowers, 

spices and herbs in a garden

flowers complementing appearances

and passion

plants to engender savory taste and texture

a simple life prepared a table of elegance

you resume walking

each step echoes

music of Beethoven, imaginative spark of 

Virginia Wolff’s stream of consciousness

to express  an exhilarating day.

The Fall

Walking to the river

I met many women walkers today

in twos, in threes

walking a dog,

walking a stroller

walking with a walker

I heard conversations 

words I could not understand

I passed by an adult retirement home

glanced at people playing bocce

The sun was higher now

almost home

In crossing a street

my shoe stubbed the edge,

Like a lightning, I hydroplaned

on a concrete walkway, 

For a moment I could not believe

it happened

large bruises on my knees, 

palms of my hand

my stick laying in front of me, 

my eyeglasses, intact

my bones, none were broken

A car stopped,

a lady driver got out, offered  

to help me. I thanked her

I stood up on my own.

I arrived home to attend 

to my wounds.

I was full of gratitude.

An extraordinary day

Can you see the blackbird?

The books I am currently reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot and The Artist’s Journey by Marcia Shaver.

Abandoned Grocery Cart

Jammed with the rocks at the riverbank

Submerged in water at high tide

Saved by a fisherman brought inland

Now you are with flowers along the walkway

Which journey will I find you again?

You can’t venture on your own.

Will you vanish somewhere

Or drift into oblivion

What will happen if Kierkegaard

or Salvador Dali find you?

I don’t think I will be dancing in strawberry field

I may write about absurdity of abandoned grocery carts.

Perhaps some ideas are astonishing

We think of wild things

Like kissing at the middle of storm

I will not be writing in Russian.

note: The book I am reading: Either/Or by Elif Batuman.

Present Moment

How often do we return to a place of enchantment

How do we “recognize the infinite value of every moment”

Rilke says, we desperately try to hold these moments in our hands

Today in my walk I found 12 cents of coins on the ground

Place them among the fowers

A moment of happiness

Not because of the new found wealth

It completes the wholeness of the universe

A new day

The woman in red returns
Coins among the flowers
Rain drops from last night

A snail wandering