Posted in Uncategorized, tagged joy, poem, poetry, sunshine on January 29, 2017| Leave a Comment »
One minute you’re sitting on the porch
in the warm morning sun and ten minutes later
it’s been an hour or more and you have forgotten
your name, forgotten the year, forgotten
who’s president, all that you know is the sky
has never been so clear and your body
has never been this starved for blue—the way
it steeps so deeply into you that by the time
you enter yourself again, you forget to wonder
how to make this radiance last,
can’t imagine you could ever feel
any other way.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, joy, poem, poetry, wushdan on January 24, 2017| 5 Comments »
In dark times it is sometimes hard
to speak of joy—not because
it doesn’t exist but because
of the guilt in feeling it.
The dark clots our arteries,
it keens in our ears, floods the streets.
Still, my friend sends me a word—
wushdan. It’s pronounced like swush,
she says, not swoosh. Wushdan.
I say it aloud, and the syllables
hush my tongue. It means,
she says, “heart awareness,
conscience,” as in a practice
of inner discipline. Wushdan,
I say again, as if to speak a word
is to know the secrets harboring
inside it for centuries.
The root, says my friend, is wush,
which is Persian, means joy.
It feels as if someone
has slipped me a piece of chocolate
in math class during a test.
Or as if, while reading
the headlines of war I look out
the window and see the big brown eyes
of a doe looking unwaveringly
into mine. And I put the paper down
and watch out the window
until the light is gone.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged joy, poem, poetry, running on September 10, 2016| Leave a Comment »
after crossing the finish line,
we keep on running—
joy, the reason to run
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged joy, poem, poetry, present on May 22, 2016| 1 Comment »
soused with joy—
unable to remember any myth
that didn’t end happily
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged joy, poem, poetry on March 12, 2016| 2 Comments »
steep, this trail—
one more reason to pause often
and notice how beautiful
*
the same rich tea—
drinking it from different cups
together
*
without looking
I find you—
unexpected sun
*
sunset so pink
the mind undoes another button—
the whole world blushes
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged joy, poem, poetry on February 8, 2015| 4 Comments »
It can be so simple,
what gives us joy.
The trace of green
in winter grass.
The scent of ginger.
A slip of a forgotten song
that returns to the lips.
A lemon cookie
sweet and tart.
And another one, too.
The feeling that
there are a million million
small sources of joy,
and the day, though
it’s finite, is not
yet over.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ice, joy, love, poem, poetry, silence on January 21, 2013| 3 Comments »
I love this place beneath the cliff.
The sun does not shine here all winter.
The water flows and the water
stops itself in the cold and the water
finds a new way. I remember
how quiet it was when I told you
what you did not want to hear.
Perhaps the clock kept keeping time
but the moon stopped.
I think of how much has changed
since then. And how much
life is the same. The silence
here is beautifully made. It is more than
the small sound of the moving
river. It is more than memory.
Suffering is not the only truth.
There is joy. There is grace.
There is peace.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged boy, chicago, joy, laughter, poem, poetry, puddle, running, son on August 17, 2012| 3 Comments »
In the heart of the city
the boy runs,
he leaps and arrives
in every puddle
until he is drenched,
dazzlingly wet.
His laugh is the laugh
we forget is always here
waiting to be laughed
come sun, come rain.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged contentment, darkness, haiku, joy, poem, poetry, singing on March 17, 2012| 3 Comments »
I guess I’d make
a crummy bird … here I am
singing in the darkness.