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ALOFT
He had always imagined coveringhis body in feathers.He knew it wouldn’t make him ableto take flight, but it would, he was certaingrant him a certain lightnessthat gravity and daily life denied him.And he knew that once coveredin his dreams he could soarfree of the restrictions thathis conscious mind imposed on him,restrictions, he knew, that werethe…
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THE EDGE OF DREAMS
On the razor edge of dreamsthe periphery of consciousnessa face appears, and I am left to wonderwho this person is, who he might be.At first he is a childwith a pixie cut, a bowl placedover the head, the bangs cutwithout considering the face peering outand others peering in.But, as sleep washing the lastsands of consciousness…
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THE FUTURE HOLDS
It should be more of a surprise,on this day that you turn ninetybut the mirror, as you see it,has you looking as you did twentytwo years earlier, and twentybefore that, unchanging in anymeaningful way, yet thosearound you laugh when youtell them what you believe. Not a day over sixty-eightyou say, and time to go offand…
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HAIL AND FAREWELL
On very dreary daysI like to drive through the cemeterymeandering among the stonesuntil I find a freshly dug grave.I stop, under the vigilant eyeof the caretaker and carefully placea cassette of Dvorak’s Slavonic Dancesor Smetana’s Die Moldau into the player.As the melodies spill forthI hope they lift the spiritof the resting, bringing them a momentof…
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AGAIN THE DREAM
The dream came to him again last night. He could never be certain if it was on the barren high mesa outside Taos or in the endless sands of Morocco. It really didn’t matter, since the action of the dream took place in a restaurant, and its location was ambiance, although he suspected it did…
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TUESDAY TRUTH: BROTHER JOHN
Are you serious? You have the temerity to ask me if I am sleeping? Seriously? If, for a moment, you thought that I was sleeping, why in hell would you jostle me and then ask me if I was sleeping? And how many times do I have to tell you that I never liked the…
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ON THE BEACH
It washed up on the beach this morning,stopped right at my feet, as Istared down at it, examining it carefully.It message was clear at first, a taletoo hard to swallow, of creaturestossed about by a storm that no onesaw, from an age in which no onenow alive could have experienced.The message described a magic landof…
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BARGING IN
It would help, she said, if you would stop imagining your life as a barge moving slowly down the Mississippi River, one in an endless procession, following like so many lemmings looking without hope of finding a cliff. Yes, she adds, from time to time one may break free, it happens but you have to…
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CALLER
It’s Sunday, so I know, before long I will have the nagging thought that I should call my mother. I’ve had this thought for years, once acted upon it with regularity, listened patiently for her weekly list of things I needed to help her with, since I never visited to do the work with her…
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LEAVING STILL
He never wants to leave this place. He never wants to leave wherever he is at that moment. Moving is the hardest thing for him, arriving is easy. She points out that you cannot arrive here without leaving there. He reminds her that something being easy is not the same thing as something being desired.…
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an old writer and his words 