If Birds Can Talk

If birds can talk

Like on my other days

I perched that morning

On a flowering fennel along the river.

I saw you coming towards me, holding

In your left hand a walking stick,

A camera in your right hand

I waited for you to get close

Close enough to take my picture

Before I flew away.

Like on your many other days

You might not notice or remember

The little things, good things

You could do

For others.

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Sharing

Today is second week of Lent

I imagine the Blessed Mother looking 

At Jesus during his passion 

I feel a deep sadness 

I imagine all the other mothers 

And fathers who have lost a loved one

We share the loss

We share tears and pain

We are one

We are one with One

Because of love.

 

“Love bears all things,

… endures all things.”

The First And Last Question

Reading an old newspapper is not useless

It’s like waiting for a train

You may see something strange 

Or someone extraordinary  

You may want to know more 

To understand and comprehend

Like going to a desert to escape the city

And sleep under the stars, take

Photographs of the constellations,

Of the revolving sky where existence is all written

Waiting for a train is like a promise

The patience of thought for surprising 

Consequences, allowing the mind

To wander or focus,time,proximity

Of time,simultaneity of waiting grinds 

Slowly, my attention, constant and stubborn

Devotes  all time to you.

The simplicity that love can enter

One’s heart at first sight.

Will I sacrifice myself for love?


Yearning

Completeness

You bend your head to listen
Changing the direction of your thought
The umbrella collapses against the wind
You stand up and leave the conversation
You are afraid you lost something
Your life yearns for completeness
Something bold and ordinary
Like the hundred quests to fold origami
Imagine the mystery of longing
With a simple lantern to guide the way
To find the piece missing
And all the steps to the last breath.

note: Mrs. Abstract and I visited Sequioa National Park. We stayed at a B&B with a beautiful miniature fairy garden.

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Mrs. Abstract enjoying the morning reading a book next to one of the three rivers.

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The Little Things

The Little Things

To search a question is not to find an immediate answer
But to hear a voice that may lead to an understanding

Unfurled, uncoiled, unchained
free like a kite unleashed
You glow while saying each word
as if they are sacred

She goes out with her camera
anxious to discover a world,
new and independent from her mind

Where do you start
When you want to piece together a broken bowl
You will learn from the small pieces
Opening the closet and selecting a new pair of slacks and blouse
Which scarf to wear on a misty day
What to prepare for dinner
The little things like learning to love again