Goodbye my friend
sail on
the sea awaits you
words without end



Goodbye my friend
sail on
the sea awaits you
words without end
Low tide,
59 degrees
fog lines the hills
a plane overhead,
sounds like distant thunder
I’m walking behind
a woman in red running
mild breeze shy on my neck,
kayakers riding towards the ocean
I pass an empty bench
an invitation, a luxury
I’m too old
to sit down
Mrs. Abstract will find me frozen
I have other ideas
like loose leaves in my notebook
come,
let’s ride the tide
let’s go upstream
come.
58, cloudy, low tide
a woman and her daughter run
a dog runs with a red ball in his mouth
he drops intermittently to keep up with his master
A grandma pushes a stroller
two other children walking and talking
vultures hoover, ducks hurry on the river
My morning walk to the river
find excitement in the moment
experience the goodness of the earth
thinning darkness
voices rising, footsteps of children
soul of a new day
start a work,
a particular work
to find a worthy self
before a final stage
there is a longing
when work is done
life is still incomplete
seeking until the end
doing and giving
the highest region of life
Is it a messy tangle
or a real knot?
She disappears in the crowd.
note: Books I finished reading: The Present Alone Is Our Happiness by Pierre Hadot.
The book I am currently reading: Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
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 .
63 degrees, sunny, the tide is going upstream
Maybe
the scope of your vision is narrow,
the field is wide, memory may falter,
movement, persistence, diminishes
distance between remembering,
words will come in baskets
no barren day or empty life
even dreams have voices
do not cease
to take care of yourself
Rise, go, where nature lives.
“Joy like a river in her soul”, words of a young boy
Sharing his mother’s state of being.
A town nestled next to a river
How does one tear down and build anew?
River dredging begins Flood Control Master Plan.
Town awakens, sounds of bulldozers and cranes,
People wearing helmets working
Design to demolish, preserve, develop, convert
Empty complexes, aging structures, dormant land
Long deliberations in what the town needs:
Hotels, shops, restaurants, or something abstract
Community park in summer turns flood diversion space in winter.
Building a promenade on riverfront,
Passageway along railroad tracks,
Connecting Vine Trail, continuity without impediments
Collaboration with artists and role of the arts,
A time for coffee and twisted cinnamon rolls.
One accent, the Passages, a segment of passageway
Once a haven for graffiti’s passion and restlessness
Now a channel for artistic expressions,
Vivid, vibrant, living project
Come, look, linger, get involve.
Walking home I hum a Dave Brubeck’s tune
I prepare smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich,
A bowl of peach yogurt and blackberries for lunch.
I take my time. I do not eat with haste.
Like town dreamers, like my friends
I, too, have choices and concerns
Should I join the frenzy of high technology
Pulsing reminders of “constantly possible productive moments”
Or walk with artists and pilgrims in shared humanity
Learn value of life, bear the task, persevere?
In my solitary walk, my mind can’t remain still
How will the young boy paint the river?
Let image follow imagination like spells of delight
Art’s idea whispers, shouts, bends then leaps to clarity
A journey of praise of what one truly loves.
In art and life, one will leave one day, the other stays.
I will write my praise.
Today was a very sad for our country. An “insurrection” breached the U.S. Capitol which was eventually repulsed.
We had a very good rain On Monday. Yesterday I walked to the river. It rained again today.
Last few weeks I watched chess tournaments on line. During the last a few days I started to play chess with a friend.
I have a hard time writing poetry recently.
Though I will miss my lunch
I am not hungry to eat yet
I am exuberantly eager to walk to the river
I don’t want to confess I want to see her again
A woman who walks with a yellow parasol
I do not feel embarrassed I do not speak her language
I feel sad for not learning the language when I was young.
Today is a different day
Everyone wishes “a somewhere to be”
The day when the lockdown begins
The day that nobody wants.
I want focus my attention to the pathway
Lined by sycamore, birch, maple and other trees I can not name
I am still astonished by soft touches of leaves falling on my head
And hearing crackling sound of leaves that I walk on
A day of circumstances
One blue heron and 4 egrets gathered on the riverbank
All looking at the river
Two sea otters playing diverts also my attention
Their heads bobbing up and under the water surface
I change my attention to the birds
They also sense my new interest
I experience the birds play of teasing
Two egrets fly away chasing each other.
Then comes a paddle boarder in the river
He bends down pulling back his paddle
Propelling himself down the river
Stands up, bends and paddles on the left
Propels himself forward again
Downstream he will turn around before he is swallowed by the sea
Paddles back to where he starts his day
Robust and happy for his accomplishment
The day may not be of bewilderment
But it is a day of sun but without rain
I’m happy to take photographs and write a poem
About how we live in a worried world
A reality we can change with our untapped power.
note: The book I just finished reading: Dirt by William Buford. Entertaining, funny, French way of cooking. Wonderful.