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Archive for January, 2019

On the Road to Shambala

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 31, 2019| 8 Comments »

 

 

 

Today yet another chance to notice

how often I am wrong. How easily

 

my voice puts on its business suit

and power pumps and exudes confidence—

 

how sure I am that I am right! And then,

when confronted with the real truth, what to do

 

but laugh at the self who just moments ago

was strutting and certain and bold.

 

What a relief to kick off the shoes

and let the self run barefoot through the afternoon,

 

ditching her dress, letting the world

laugh at her, holes in her stockings,

 

holes in her conviction, shoulders

bare and exposed. Feel how the breeze

 

rushes in through the open door,

carries with it the song of red-wing blackbirds,

 

touches everything like relief, like

a song about journeys, like forgiveness.

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And Oh, the Stars Then

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on January 30, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

And who could explain why tonight

a bowling alley opened up inside my heart

and an invisible hand kept sending the ball down

 

the lane and it was strike after strike after strike.

The gutters, so empty, decided to get up

and play, too, and we all drank a beer

 

and toasted to the way strange things happen.

Oddly enough, I was chopping carrots and kale

this whole time, and could not help myself

 

from feeling as if I should celebrate.

Outside, the tips of the mesas

were pink, fleeting, of course, but it left

 

an indelible stamp on me, and meanwhile,

as the yellow onions made me cry,

the sound of ten pins crashing down

 

came again and again

and again, and I just

couldn’t shake this feeling

 

that something wonderful was happening,

the scent of garlic filling the room, the sky

turning gray, turning black.

 

 

 

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One Trick

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 29, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

seeing them on the branch

the bright yellow tanagers

gone until summer

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That Almost January Evening When I Was Six

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on January 29, 2019| 4 Comments »

 

 

 

We sat around the oval kitchen table

and made hats out of ribbons

and paper plates, and we piled them high

with golden grapes and fake flowers.

I remember thinking how great, how magic it was

that something we’d use for dinner

transformed into something so elegant.

 

Today I stared hard at a paper plate,

as if I could return to that state of delight

and easy grace. Was this how Cinderella felt

when she gazed at the pumpkin the day

after the ball? Wondering if the magic

happened at all? Weighing the shape

of reality against her dream?

 

Yes, I tell myself, it was real,

the glittering fruit, the beauty I felt,

the laughter around the table.

And it was a dream, the way my parents

made it seem as if we had it all.

And when the clock struck midnight,

none of the magic left at all.

 

 

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One Soon

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 27, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

driving past the great nests,

my mind fills in the empty air—

dozens of blue heron wings

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Sometimes, Like Today, We Remember

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 27, 2019| 3 Comments »

 

 

 

that everyone, even the driver in the white jeep

who cut in front of you, yes, even

the elegant woman in the dairy aisle and

the man who seems lost on the library steps

and the child sitting alone on the bench, yes

everyone has a story—fears and hopes

and something to learn and someone they love

and someone who’s hurt them and someone

they long to hold. And though their stories

are mostly invisible, they’re always

more complex than whatever we project

and they’re every bit as real as our own.

The woman in the dairy aisle smiles at you,

and though she is wearing diamonds in her ears,

she looks lonely. Or is it you, who is lonely?

Is it all of us? All of us longing for someone

to truly see us. And that driver you’re cursing,

don’t we all sometimes feel as if we need

to move forward any way we can? And that

boy on the bench, notice the empty seat beside him?

Perhaps you could sit there, too, in the sun.

Who knows what might happen next?

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After a Friend Showed Me the Video About Koi No Yokan

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 26, 2019| 2 Comments »

with thanks to JT

 

all day leapfrogging

from known to known to known

missing the feelings between the feelings—

ten thousand mysterious spaces

waiting for us to fall in

 

 

https://www.bbc.com/reel/video/p05sn4xx/the-untranslatable-japanese-phrase-that-predicts-love

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The Gift of Themselves

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on January 24, 2019| 2 Comments »

 

 

 

And when they say, I am going to eat ice cream

until I feel better, perhaps say, What flavor?

 

And when they say, I am going to cry myself to sleep,

perhaps say, May the night hold you as you cry.

 

What is it in us that wants to say, Don’t cry?

And since when has trying to stop the tears worked, anyway?

 

My teacher speaks of the greatest gift:

to give a person themselves.

 

I think of when I told my friend I did not feel beautiful.

She did not rush to argue with me.

 

She let me outline my reasons.

She hummed in soft agreement.

 

Her nods nourished me like a clear lake.

I threw my stones of self-doubt in its waters till it stilled.

 

So when they say, I feel terrible, perhaps say,

Yes, it is a difficult day. Perhaps add a knowing hum.

 

Add a nod. A hug if they want it.

And give them their own words,

 

how they shine like daylight,

bright enough they see, perfectly, themselves.

 

 

 

 

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Driving with Socrates

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 23, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.

            —Socrates

 

 

And so Socrates says, Enjoy yourself,

and I tattoo those two words

into my thoughts, but then, no matter

what the clock says, no matter

what the mirror says, no matter

what Socrates says, I tell myself,

I am right on time.

Like the moon, which this morning

still hangs in the west as the sky

all around it turns red.

The moon isn’t late, isn’t early,

isn’t anything but the moon doing

what the moon does. Do that,

I tell myself, staring at its light

as it drops through the rear view mirror,

at the same time keeping my eyes on the road.

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Secret Agents

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 23, 2019| 5 Comments »

 

 

for Sherry Richert Belul

 

 

With a LOVE stamp, the woman I’ve never met

mailed me five dollars, “to be a reminder

that abundance can come unexpectedly,”

 

she wrote, and sitting with her letter in my lap,

I thought of last night’s snow—

five white inches that fell after midnight

 

and softened the whole hard world.

And I thought of the orchid on my mantle

that sprouted a new stem of purple buds

 

even as the other stem continued to bloom.

And I thought of my office mate bringing in

nine tins of exotic teas to share. And my daughter

 

sending me a text to say she loved me “soooo much.”

And I thought of a woman in a town a thousand

miles away, a woman I have never met,

 

who thought, “I think I’ll send five dollars

to someone who brought abundance into my life.”

How simple it is to manifest unforeseen joy.

 

How clear the invitation to extend gratitude,

to spread good will, to remind each other

how the world will offer itself, will open

 

and open and open, how we, ourselves,

are the agents of the world.

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