Should I listen to others
who want to change me?
They have more imagination than me
I might have been influenced by some
but by persuasion, not by dictation
I listen, observe and decide on my own
Until she comes reciting her poetry like a song
I forget I have a pain in my ear, need a biopsy.
Hide in a shelter of trees in the woods and listen to avian conversations, sweet songs and chatter
Serenades in chants of love songs, birds flirting, time phrases
Simultaneous displays of affection
When evening comes, lie down on the meadow to ease you muscle aches and back discomfort
Watch the stars appear ten by ten until you can’t count them anymore
Your brain nudges the hammock of neural synapses connecting lifelines of attention and comfort
The fragrance of grass, beauty of flower garlands open your senses to a new chemistry
The body is intelligent in an unknown way and know what to subtract and add in wholesome well being before you yourself knows what’s happening.
Open space embrace with soothing air and mountain views like a sanctuary as if nature is speaking to you. And understand emotionally what the birds are singing. The secret is not what you imagine but what you feel.
You know you will need tremendous courage to follow your own rules.
Some songs and calls are fading
The birds are facing extinction
Encroachment in their habitats or human neglect
The birds chant offers a sense of place and time and peace
We are losing the outdoors richness when our winged friends leave or die.
Don’t abandon the birds, they are helpless pretty creatures and friends
If you don’t answer your questions you have to find one who can. Don’t presume you are the first one to ask.
The birds flew south
Walking in the forest
I heard silence
With echoes of sadness
After you left
The books remained unread
Arranged on top of each other
In alphabets of absence
Some words are missing
In discordant conversations
The strings were adjusted
I was able to sleep
After a very long wait.
A month ago.
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?
Today I went for my walk before I had my breakfast. It was 53F and the sun was trying to peek behind the clouds. A light brown, tall poodle lumbered out from a door and ran ahead of me. I heard a young woman called out, “Mozart, Mozart, come back.” The woman and I exchanged pleasantries. I remarked that she has a beautiful dog. I met a walker with his dog, a smaller one thanMozart. We greeted each other, Good morning. They were walking on opposite direction.
I continued my walk to the river. A few fishermen were socializing among themselves. Their lines resting on the riverbank.
Two towering palm trees across each other on the sidewalk greeted passerby’s. They remind me of a warmer place somewhere. The yucca plants did not give me a similar memory.
Perhaps because of a rain for the last 2 days the street was fairly clean. The birds sang joyfully.
By the time I turned around to walk back home the sun has burst out. The top of the hills has risen above the clouds. The breeze 55F grazed my face like a whisper.
My morning of holy moments.
The room never looks the same
the light like a long thinker finds
its way to the farthest corner
you walk to the window
to catch the last ray of light
coloring the flock of birds
flying in a straight line
you turn your head around
as if remembering something
questions your lips can not utter
you tilt glass to your lips
champagne bubbles rise
like small thoughts
of love in audible whispers.
note: Lara Fabian sings Je T’aime
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