To have known you
You are brimming with gaiety
Paddling the kayak together for one hour
One foggy morning
The river at high tide
The moments of astonishment
Are more than enough for me
To welcome winter.
Category: river
Listen
I walk to the river this morning
listen to the songs the birds are singing
and the sounds of my feet touching the earth.
Have you heard recently
the sound of your feet
walking over autumn leaves?
Three Men in a Boat
May be
May be the path has more leaves now
Than when we passed by the day before
Your mind is somewhere else since your friend left
You are not paying attention.
But you still return to the river to fish.
Little Things
Walking to the river is my quotidian proclimation
A morning with flashes of sharp breeze and exaggerated cloud formations
A fugitive or a caged bird
Life, a quilt floating in time, fertile and vulnerable
Always lacking in certainty
Piecing parcels together fuels the effort
Ages I scale are experiences of different personalities
Each stage has its own expressions and demands:
Writing, cooking, doing laundry—little things, mundane and sacred
The progression, a knowing like I felt everything
Fishemen, artists, lactating mothers, even geniuses
Want to live a real life of home.
Monday morning rain
A glorious day
The length of day
The day is new, let’s wave and embrace morning
Watch the fronds unfurl from sleep
Sun’s salutation, the first definition.
You are awake, look for the spider
Hungry and watchful and subtle
Experimentations in few moments of being:
A hole on the fence to see a world
Wide, bright, and far reaching
Turning a page, empty, eager to be filled
Words, sketches, and bouncing minds.
And you think the day is short
Whistle
I am walking to the river.
Sometimes I whistle when I walk Inviting the breeze to come.
The birds whistle to each other.
They hide within the branches of the trees when it rain.
Their wings become heavy when wet.
Some places flood when it rains.
Places next to a river.
Houses along a river.
Even after repeated floods people don’t want leave.
Some mountains have frequent fires.
People who live there also don’t want to move to another plane.
Some people have perseverance.
They have courage to resist.
The cool breeze comes.
I continue my walk.
Sometimes I think of you. I wonder of what you are doing.
I will see you on Thursday.
note:Color my heart with cookies.
A moment of each day
Thud, thud, the thudding sound
of a luggage sliding Inside the car’s trunk,
a car driving fast the curves
that’s how my head spins
when I clean the sink of unfulfilled writing promises
I will try again
a new concept of a New Year
to tell a moment of each day
a gathered thought, an instant click of a camera
not a memorized notion of what a day should be,
maybe a spark of enchantment.
Will it make the day meaningful?
Or trivial?
But questions do not meant to be answered
only understood.
I will begin today.
Note: Like a mantra I walk to the river today. The day is spring-like low 60’s, blue sky, flowers and acacia trees are blooming.
The photos from my mobile phone capture the moment.
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