Should I listen to others
who want to change me?
They have more imagination than me
I might have been influenced by some
but by persuasion, not by dictation
I listen, observe and decide on my own
Until she comes reciting her poetry like a song
I forget I have a pain in my ear, need a biopsy.
Moments move our emotions, our life
How can I move like time
I am a humble hummingbird
Hovering over flowers until I am out breath
There is wisdom in the stones I will not know
Or a camaraderie with bees I will not experience
Where can I go my friend to touch the warmth of time
Perhaps I can find a child who will want a lullaby
My wings can sing her a song.
Today I went for my walk before I had my breakfast. It was 53F and the sun was trying to peek behind the clouds. A light brown, tall poodle lumbered out from a door and ran ahead of me. I heard a young woman called out, “Mozart, Mozart, come back.” The woman and I exchanged pleasantries. I remarked that she has a beautiful dog. I met a walker with his dog, a smaller one thanMozart. We greeted each other, Good morning. They were walking on opposite direction.
I continued my walk to the river. A few fishermen were socializing among themselves. Their lines resting on the riverbank.
Two towering palm trees across each other on the sidewalk greeted passerby’s. They remind me of a warmer place somewhere. The yucca plants did not give me a similar memory.
Perhaps because of a rain for the last 2 days the street was fairly clean. The birds sang joyfully.
By the time I turned around to walk back home the sun has burst out. The top of the hills has risen above the clouds. The breeze 55F grazed my face like a whisper.
My morning of holy moments.
How many of 7,401,858,841 humans have you encountered?
Imagine a universe of possible connections.
When I arrive low tide has almost emptied the river
Revealing muddy banks and signs of old dredging.
A fisherman immersed in his cell phone laments
Absence of fish, a blue heron is tiptoeing beside him.
A cyclist-friend walks with his bike with me,
Says his father has been seeing butterflies
Fluttering on his bedroom wall in the morning
A slow narrative increasing in length.
I chat with a whistling man
Walking his corgi diminishes, he says,
His disillusionment in life. He starts
Remembering the different kinds of trees.
The hills are yellowing before me
Before the summer solstice.
Seedless watermelons selling for $4.99 each
Outside a grocery store next to a bank.
That night I hear
An angelic voice singing a lullaby
Which comforts me
To a deep sleep.
if you walk tomorrow, bring water in a bottle
and an extra step. The whole day may be hot.
Yesterday I took a shower,groomed,drove down to the library to browse at the book sale.
I stayed a little more than half hour. The room felt like it was moving. My throat felt like ivies were crawling. My cough rattled still the chandelier.
I could not see the red planet.The sky was cloudy with the impending rain. It did not rain.
I listened to a few songs by the four Holbrook sisters:SHEL
Today my appetite returned. The chandelier still shuddered and the ivy,still an ivy. I might see the red planet tonight.
Note:I finished Arcadia,a multilayered science fiction fantasy,by Iain Pears.