What is the danger of idleness?
Life can be an opposite of what you remember.
Ascending and descending from memory can be a restless dream
Until the rooster crows
Sometimes age doesn’t offer certainty but doubt
But should everyone experience endurance?
Amidst the stings you want to taste the hive
Look deep and make your own conclusion
We are supposed to use our imagination
A toil for every tree to build a forest
Does everything have to be clean and tidy?
Free of disorder?
Do we all have to come home?
The question can remain unsaid
But then it may appear as evasion
There are other challenges
Will they understand?
In a simple gesture lightning stirs my imagination
Inhabiting my days with rich territories of things to see
And what will I imagine
Like a refrain of raindrops
I wipe my face dry for only a moment
Violent storms come more often
A landscape of astonishment
You follow the floods and shrieking winds
With a camera, a pen and fear
You don’t withdraw
Pursuit is a new form of courage
As an adult I can select certain things
I can eat river-bank-foraged yellow sorrel flowers and wild fennel
There along the sidewalks and river banks
You can forage nutritious weeds
For your table and elevate your taste.
And a promise you will do it againl
note: I’m reading A Time To Keep Silence by Patrick Leigh Fermor.I finished reading Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders.
The sound of whipping eggs
Energy mimics chaotic emotion
Of misplaced photographs
Critical point of dominance
Of contemporary thinking
And concepts emerge in avalanche.
You carry your imagination everywhere
Enduring the questions of survival
Writing stories in long hand
In the backyard full of bougainvillea
After driving through a dense traffic everyday.
Not a sweeping change
But a foray in symmetry in life
That is common and unnoticed.
Her line of vision is diverted
a bird chasing a helicopter
a juxtaposition in space makes
her imagined moment real:
two lovers arriving at different places
mistaking them as their rendezvous
finding a new scenery they wander
as if they are together
playing separate strings.
note: photo taken by Mrs. Abstract at Joshua Tree National Park.
We have daily choices
Though one may prefer to walk a narrow lane
In perfect balance playing an accordion
Color and line are inseparable
Like peanut butter and jam
And most things in life.
Does survival means choosing one over another
Mortals drink from a glass or a cup
But sometimes we become too choosy
Even when selecting between a peach and pear
As if only one leads to imagination
You walk alone thinking of beauty
Among the terror, the forbidden, the sacred
Should we not be in tune within ourselves
To understand the nature’s resonance
The inner calling? Some gather mushrooms
In the forest, others watch the circling birds
To connect with the sacred.
All the definitions are written.
Most of the questions are answered.
We can engage in games with abandon.
Find the vocabulary for vulnerabilities,
The intersections of passion and doubt
Jazz players deep in improvisations.
Good appetite surrounds pillars of well-being
Taste compliments strength
Like when a house leans where the wind blows.
Experts say music can shape lives
Research says exercise affects the heart’s cells
And make them younger.
When shall we start moral reflection
With purpose and effort?
How shall we face the inevitable
When we can’t breath together anymore?
How do we cry
When suffering is unbearable?
Always a change in climate for discussion,
Abundant snow and excessive rain,
Storms and violent winds
Nature is not the easiest to understand
The divine has a way to confound
Even when meditation focuses on awareness.
You shake the leaves for them not fall
but to fly
You don’t want your imagination
to be like a koala bear so lovely on a tree
but a kangaroo jumping on a rice field.
Enjoy a cup of morning coffee, look out
don’t leave the vast space unexplored
and your mind.
the art of swimming
between strokes and form
she arranges tiny leaves floating on the pool
a fan, mountain summits, aurora borealis