I like carrying a yellow parasol
protects me from rain
sometimes it balance my thoughts
from crowds, sudden jolts
opens to social distancing,
a companion in my walks
If I am meeting a friend
I am easy to distinguish
In a crowded train station
Suffering can be cruel
yellow seems to soften my emotion
It’s New Year
you will understand changes.
An orphan she has
Few stories to tell, few attachments
How could she show passion,
Or care for someone
But she knows where ripe plums are,
Which mushrooms are edible
Where to find spring water, safe and crystal clear
How to be resourceful
Habit and prudence and street smart
She starts learning the constellations,
Learns how to be afraid and be calm
She looks at the flowering vines,
Sleeps like an owl and wakes up
To her full height, realizes
Distances between trees, between her
And trees, her and others
She is a distance of her own.
Things she cherishes, go away
Teaches her gratitude.
Her beautiful eyes say, thank you.
note: The book I’m reading: Ten keys to Reality by Frank Wilczek.
I will have surgery on my right ear next week. The discomfort is tolerable at the present time.
Sometimes I have to take some analgesics.
Traveling for so many days
435 bridges and 234 tunnels
Losing landmarks and diverting to side excursions
A lavish description of arriving somewhere
After getting lost
Like newlyweds entering their first house
Whatever the sizable differences are
They can be traced to algorithms
Like sentences they have to learn because they are new
After awhile they can talk and understand
The end is an accomplishment
Carried by patience and time.
They are foreign to each other
Like a blinding snowstorm before beginning of summer
Afterwards seasons go uninterrupted, seem seamless
Though there are days of grief
Some days of longing, others of mirth
Ambiguity eases into familiar themes
They arrive to a place they understand
Life changes gradually into bliss
Remembering words of Aristotle
We yearn to reach the good at the end.
Moments move our emotions, our life
How can I move like time
I am a humble hummingbird
Hovering over flowers until I am out breath
There is wisdom in the stones I will not know
Or a camaraderie with bees I will not experience
Where can I go my friend to touch the warmth of time
Perhaps I can find a child who will want a lullaby
My wings can sing her a song.
Invent reality?
Is there a minimum of thought
One has to do everyday?
She is playing a guitar
and humming then singing
about ideas and consequences
then stops and starts writing furiously
“Examine your own courage
if you can get up every morning
with a better will than the day before?”
A cat comes, nozzles in her arms
She touches her with equal affection
then she looks at me and exclaims:
“Is it sad or meaningful or ostentatious to say—
I hiked Switzerland the whole summer?
Or I hug cows to relieve my stress?”
The cat jumps, goes to the window, sits purring.
Time folds, distorts harmony of living
Why bemoans the loss during the pandemic
Thousands are dying, millions lost their jobs,
thousands are lining up for food.
Time has changed unlike any other time:
A call for one another to stay together.
Blindness Not Just The Eyes
I stand laughing and looking
You at the buoyant side of being funny
Your words trickle on the safe distance between us
The trick is to make it lasts longer
Longer than the recitation of arithmetic of pandemic
When to open doors, breath the fresh air
Without widening the hospital doors
More cases will enter, more deaths
We cry, pray without even hope of holding hands
There is already so much written about haste and finance
Lacking tests and more tests
They have deaf ears
Counting other types of numbers
Want the numbers bold and arrogant
Going deeper, poorer, much poorer in spirit.
“I don’t need a light
to think of you.”
true and curious apprehension
a letter
The Place
The surprise of hearing my own voice
like seeing slivers of light filtered between the trees
The words are whispered which I could have missed
Words of encouragement, a push
My eyes are closed, my attention sharpened
I am resting a bit after walking long
My breathing is trying to catch up with my steps
In trying to reach my goal I struggle
There are benches, handrails, sources of spring water
I am vulnerable but not feeble.
I am not alone, or helpless
Though night is approaching I am not lost.
Is it the wind or spirit descends from above the trees
A voice telling me a place in eternity
The place where I am going.
It rained yesterday.
Rained again today.
We are only 54 percent in rainfall for the year.
I walked to the river on most days.
Today I did not.
Calamities make days unreal.
In our isolation let’s expand our relationship
You are not alone
We are in this together
We cry together. We pray together
Let’s join our shoulders together
Love will prevail.
edgarone2
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