Travel, sometimes, may have to renounce
The ordinary to discover new consequences
Boredom is unnecessary.
With my green bug, I braved muddy roads and narrow alleys
Walked fishing villages, medieval churches with unusual frescoes,
Temples with a thousand Buddhas, tasted
exotic foods and learned different cultures.
I got robbed once and almost drowned
The chains I have to break.
Of course, certain memories are eternal:
Sacred places forbidden
And fruits one should not touch.
The fish is delirious with fury
Struggling to free itself from the hook
The fisherman plays his line with frenzy.
Does he doubt that his pleasure
Is another one’s anguish?
When the bees chase the fisherman
The heart beats with agitation
Thoughts run faster than the feet
Breaking all obstacles.
A story good for another telling.
A little girl
with a tiny shovel and pail
mountain on the beach
Where do butterflies go when it’s raining?
Flowers are covered with raindrops.
The streets are full of umbrellas.
Two dancers stand opposite each other
And start moving in concentric circles
Lines intersecting in spider web
Writing their own stories in monologues
Speaking to themselves in silence.
I watch their performance
And create my own pantomime
Crying and shouting and standing still.
There are things that seem similar
Maze and labyrinth sound indistinguishable
A parrot can speak on it’s own
An echo can’t.
We can hunt with a spear
Or a bow and arrow
One is easier to learn, the other harder.
Which animal is the first to walk the earth?
Which is the fastest and the weakest?
Shall I feel excited for the answers?
Birds do not cry.
Though sometimes they look helpless.
Like when they are sunning on the beach
And high tide is coming
Why should sadness be inevitable?
You can look out to the sea
Imagine the sailboats racing
Or simply sailing leisurely.
Have patience with the past
In the midst of absurdities
There is time to differentiate
Optimism from hope.
Do not cry.
The walking distance covered today
Is more than yesterday
The weight of creation
Is heavier every day
To bloom and to prune
Is an effort, work is always incomplete
You don’t have to apologize
You will finish it one day.
You add and subtract words,
take away and add stories.
But what do you do with emotions,
real and imagined?
You ride a boat and go fishing
while your cousins play ball.
You play with a trout and the trout wins,
you return home for a blueberry pie.
Why should not life be thriving?
A solitary bird in darkening sky
The day before spring
The mountain and the sea define the table,
language creates the neighborhood.
How many ways can you cook a pig?