Memories

Opening your school yearbook after so many years

memory are like high places we cling to

revelations can pain your heart

you want to resist but rawness is hard to hide

like a cry of a sparrow

eyes and face can reveal so easily

what is to inhabit bleakness of a future

or emotional existence when tethering from ordinary

but youthful exploits can ripen into awareness

mistakes can be forgiven

contradictions can come to resolutions

you can rise again after a wicked plunge

new leaf, new lines of relationships 

can bloom in extraordinary clarity

you are a survivor.

Lives of Others

An orphan she has 

Few stories to tell, few attachments

How could she show passion,

Or care for someone

But she knows where ripe plums are, 

Which mushrooms are edible

Where to find spring water, safe and crystal clear

How to be resourceful

Habit and prudence and street smart

She starts learning the constellations,

Learns how to be afraid and be calm

She looks at the flowering vines,

Sleeps like an owl and wakes up 

To her full height, realizes

Distances between trees, between her

And trees, her and others

She is a distance of her own.

Things she cherishes, go away

Teaches her gratitude.

Her beautiful eyes say, thank you.

note: The book I’m reading: Ten keys to Reality by Frank Wilczek.

I will have surgery on my right ear next week. The discomfort is tolerable at the present time.

Sometimes I have to take some analgesics.

Really? Really.

“A wolverine is a strict loner, but a man needs people.”
-James Campbell, Braving it

Note: Books I’m reading;
Ripples in Spacetime by Govert Schilling
The Metaphysical Club by Louis Menand
Braving It by James Campbell
Flirting With French by William Alexander
Entering the Silence by Thomas Merton
Living the Kabbalah by Simcha H. Benyosef
Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
East of Eden by John Steinbeck (for my book club in September)

A lot but it makes the reading interesting. Mixture of ideas. Some of the books are at my bedside, others are on the sofa downstairs.

Mrs. Abstract shakes her head. She reads one book at a time.

Can you see a man? Can you start a story?

A man alone on the beach,

looking beyond the waters,

a letter inside his pocket.

the way it is

Spring arrives with tulips, cattleyas and daffodils
promenaders bring the crowd and bees disperse them
shouts and laughter of children playing
pause and enjoy, I try
days pass too quickly
start of a new cycle
before we know it
impermanence and renewal
saying goodbye and hello
singing the Beatles’s song

from decays comes blooms
new houses, buildings, neighborhood
a landscape of men and women
sometimes wonderful and sometimes confused
“at times loving and at times self-seeking”
compassionate and cruel
beautiful and frightening.

I look out at dawn, awakening
darkness yielding to clarity and brightness
tonight I will prepare dinner, open bottles of wine
why should we be strangers.