Category: Summer 2023

A friend told me that if
I want to store something
I see in memory, to blink
my eyes, deliberately,
as if my eyelids were
a camera’s shutter. I do
this frequently now and
suppose that’s what
the earth is doing when
she closes her eyelids
at night: remembering,
everything. Just in case
it all should vanish.
I join her. I intend
to carry as much of it
with me as my soul
can hold, as a witness.
Just in case we’re the last ones
ever to be here. You never know.

Now that you’ve caught a glimpse of me,
come closer and get a better view.
Watch how I dance my petals for you,
how I waltz in the breeze to please,
my delicate scent rising to your nose
and whispering to you the essence
of rose, which, as everyone knows,
means “I love you.”

If, one day in your travels,
you come upon a garden,
stop. Pull some moments
from your day to bathe
your spirit in its song,
Be astonished at the way
that stardust comes together
to create the wondrous dance
of the seer and the seen.

The sound is silvery and shimmers
in the air the way frost shimmers
in moonlight. You don’t perceive it
with your ears the way you perceive
ordinary sound. You feel it, almost
like a tickle, just inside the top
of your skull. You have to be very
still, letting your breath flow
like thin layers of silk. The sound
rides them, your breaths, and
being made of high and delicate
vibrations, rises to the very top
of you, where it plays. You don’t
see the fairies either. But again,
you feel them, their almost visible
gossamer bodies dancing
all around you as the music
shimmers, like frost, in the air.

Once again, a single flower, smaller than an American dime,
catches my attention as it floats in a sea of green. I bend
to peer at it more closely and it rewards me with the intricacy
of its sweet design. Only then do I spot the tiny ant perched
beside it, to whom, I imagine, this tiny blossom must seem colossal.
What worlds we pass by! What stories and wonders unfold,
untold and unseen, by the sides of the roads!

I have come to the conclusion—
well, I have come to accept
the obvious, which is that we seem
to be visiting an increasingly

              weird
              curious
              horrific
              magical
              mysterious,
              oh yes, that,
              certainly that,
              and supernatural,
              multi-dimensional,
              in a rather awe-inspiring way.

planet. At least I find it so.
Few things are certain, and even with those,
change is the only constant. There’s no use,
I decided, in trying to figure it out. You’re better off
wandering through the meadows, appreciating
the daisies and the warmth of a fine summer day.

Be like water, holding onto nothing.
in stillness, reflecting the heavens,
in motion, responsive to all.
Be clear, possessed of your own nature.
Nurture the living. Support what is adrift
and carry it to shore. Dissolve all barriers.
Flow with ease past all apparent obstacles.
Bubble with laughter; release all sorrow with your tears,
Be warmed by light, and know that even when you are frozen,
you hold the light within. Cascade freely
into the depths of the unknown,
roaring the Grand Yes as you fall,
for everything is an adventure,
set forth for your learning and delight.
Move unceasingly toward your Source
and sing the songs of joy on your journey.
Be like water.

The time when everything comes into its own,
pushes its potentials across the invisible line
between being here and not. Petals unfold,
wings unfurl, shells break. And however slow
the seeming pace, it’s all in constant motion,
everything flowing full force into more
of exactly what it’s meant to be, playing
exactly the part its meant to play, and
reveling in the rhythm of the song.

They didn’t hear me as I stepped from the woods,
and as soon as I saw them, I stepped back into the trees,
pausing only long enough to snap a picture. This wasn’t,
after all, something you saw every day, a father and son
perched on the creek bank, examining what they caught
in the little blue net. I want to hold the image of them
in my mind forever, as if that could ensure that thirty years
from now this boy, grown, would be crouched on this bank
with a son of his own, teaching him all the special secrets.

This is a real place, a few feet
from my kitchen door. Imagine!
Imagine floating in on wings
whose colors match the world
around you, eager to taste
the blue droplets of nectar
that draw you, and you take
all this for for granted. Imagine.