Sunny Day

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.

Musing

What are cruel works for man?

The siren paves a way

rage to be heard

or hurry to offer remedy

someone cries for help

arrival then silence

Start of another story 

One may not walk away

drastic alteration of meanings

the grief rises when 

one doesn’t listen

but invisible energy emerges

when someone cares

After all this thinking

I arrive at a camp at Lake Millinockett

to fish for brown trout.

note: The book I’m reading: When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron

Glance

The cat looks quizzical at the orchid on the table

I can offer understanding

The orchid, beautiful and frail

What does the cat think?

Simple or capricious question

One can devote a lifetime to answer

Observe what’s happening in one’s environment

Symmetry and differences can bring,

Even to an ordinary mind, an insight

Or become attached to one interpretation

Unnecessarily and slow the progress

Even a disagreement can be a cooperation

One glance can open an ocean.

LIFE TRAVELS

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.

CHOICES

“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.

Into The Woods


Foggy brain and random words

Introduced me to forest bathing 

And being friendly with my neighbors

Walking in the woods makes me more attentive to sounds and light

Breathing fresh air with fragrance of trees and streams

My emotions calm down

I start feelings of gratitude

Each breath becomes easier and more regular

I feel connected to the world again

I can look at my pain and losses

Not wishing them to go away

But to go through them

And face them with gratitude

Every day is a new day

Appreciative of small and simple things

Like breathing, walking, dawn.

note: flowers I saw during my walk to the river today.

A Day in the Life of

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.

Bye

I look up the sky and predict how my day will be

Glorious if blue, deluge if black

If the monarch butterflies are migrating

The sky may be dark

Or white with all the beautiful cloud formations

I can get my camera and take photos

And make an album

I learn that I have to know more than the sky color to survive

Life is tough and dangerous and fun

Or I may end up in Hollywood

And become rich or an addict

Preferably I should learn how to negotiate a roundabout

It could mean life or death

Well I have to go

My partner is waiting

We have to go to the forest to pick mushrooms

Bye.

Once

We meet once in a farmer’s market

You are selecting a peach, I’m buying okra

Talk and walk and laugh

You spin a loom, I wield an ax

Gather, break, understand

Happy when together

A long beautiful day we wish each other

Before we wave goodbye

Cups of coffee and talks

Walks along the river

What is abstract 

A question of enchantment 

How do we measure 

Content or duration

And weight 

Are dimensions important?