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.
May be it’s to answer a call or blind fate in finding something
You decide to hike the Appalachian Trail.
The trail is kind to the brave and humble
The pain and sweat and determination
Stay with every step in solidarity with others.
To reach the summit the climb becomes steeper
You have to grab handholds firmly
And pull yourself up with steady upper body strength
In the thin air your heart has to persevere
Your legs gather the steps almost like forever
You do not lose sight of your stamina and purpose
Till a shout of triumphal gratitude.
You are in your nineties now
Seldom mention the deep meaning of your accomplishment
You often smile when someone talks about hiking or a climb
You walk only two to three miles a day.
I walked farther today than the previous days: three miles. I crossed Napa River on an elevated bridge and connected to the river trail, to the downtown then returned home on another street.
It was 65 degrees, sunny with a cool breeze. I met along the way other walkers and cyclists. We all practiced the safe distancing. There colorful flowers and plants and art.
I stopped a lot to take photos.
We are sheltered in.
Allowed to go out to take walks
Or get basic essentials for daily living.
I walk to the river for fresh air and scenery
The clouds form many disguises
The blue heron comes then flies away
Horses nonchalant in its movements
Tiny flowers adorn the lawn
My daily miracle.
A lemur can jump 25 feet
Imagine the social distance
In time like today
After correction of errors, a shift in imagination
The weight lifted lighten the wings for wider spaces
The stories written with new desire for understanding
Seeing and describing reality.
The moments of waiting before the unfolding
Is utter loneliness.
The objects of desire are well illustrated
Ushered in the open air.
We forget defeats, remember victories
The painful ones, the hardest ones
Written in the bones, carried in the tears
We smile and say, why not.
The art of fresh approach, act of integration
The next story of enchantment we will write
As if we are thinking of immortality
We are offering our homage and gratitude.
A glass of wine and rain on a March afternoon
She says she just visited Morocco
Ate a lot of foods served in tagines.
I struggle to know
The imperfections of a place
To find a solution, an honest quest
Some look familiar, others look relevant
A little twist, a little nudge can move small stones
Inspiring but not enough to tackle boulders
Unheroic simplicity to a balanced life.
Even busy exhausting life
Can point to God
With his never absent mercy and love.
To seek God is not for a day or a month
It’s not a pilgrimage
It’s a lifelong task, I will find in him
“The ultimate reasons for things.”
Sometimes we feel dead in our faith
Sometimes we feel invigorated like spring
The desert of lent is not devoid of life
“Rise, do not be afraid.”
The structures were well illustrated
The choices were made after long studies
I was surrounded by experiences
All willing to part with their advice
My decision oscillated between practical and fairy tales
My imagination painted the stories
Traveling with premonition of arrival
In altered reality
I smiled because I took
The road not taken by others
Discovered a deeper experience.
Yesterday I walked with my two grandchildren and their dog for two and a half hours. My granddaughter took the photo.
Length of Stay
There is no more boredom or uneven walk on the hiking trail
No more mere acorns and colored pebbles from the riverbed
A new day of catastrophe’s widening reach
Wearing a mask wherever one goes
Suspicion of catching the virus when traveling, talking with friends and strangers
Living in narrow corridors
A suffocating feeling, counting the hours
Waiting when the end come?
With fear of being left alone and contagious
Today I walk to the river
There is a pink breasted bird flying from one branch to another, from one tree to another tree
Tweeting and communicating in a high pitch bird talk
I see a fisherman attending to his line
The fish has not touched any of his baits
But living is not all about intensity and patience
Not all about uncertainties and business hours
Life is also about the every day simplicity: corn on the cob and opening an umbrella during the rain,
A good book, kind thoughts, and Beethoven
And kissing you goodnight.