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CELESTIAL RHYTHM
It was a certain rhythm that he loved,one he felt it in total silence, yet it fadedin the presence of sound, a doumbekof the soul he would describe it. He remembered how it was beforetheir one god rendered him and his kindmere mythological creatures fit onlyfor poetry and dusty library shelves. He would have his…
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ROAMING
It is a sign of advancing ageor increasing love and passionthat I no longer imaginechucking it all and wanderingoff of some unplanned journey. Next flight out please, Idon’t care where it is going,so long as I have money leftfor food and some basic lodging,no baggage besides my carry on. Of course today that wouldland me…
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FALLING
I fell deeply in love with herstanding in a small jeweler’s shopin Bangor, Wales on a November morning.In truth, cradling a small silverCeltic cross in my handsI knew then that Itaken that plungewithin moments of our meetingand recognition of itwas all that remained.
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IMAGINE
I think it might have beena passionate love letterI wrote to you last weekbut never delivered although there is the remotepossibility it was justour grocery list, bothhave line breaks after all, but it does show whyI must remember to checkthe pockets of my jeansbefore I put them in the washer. So let’s agree that it…
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THE LANGUAGE OF ZEN
The greatest problemwith our languagein the practice of zazencan seem insurmountable. We are lovers of tenses,a dozen to choose from,one spawning offspring,time ever important to us. In zen, on the cushionthere is no past, no future,perfect or otherwise, norour friend the conditional. We strive to always bein the moment, there is nowand nothing else, and…
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SONNET TO A PORTUGUESE
You came into my life last week, your nameforever locked away inside her mind.My life, she felt, would never be the sameand therefore left all thought of you behind.You loved her, I suppose, that summer nightthen left her, bearing me, until she turnedme over for adoption, that she mightforget the love that you so quickly…
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STONE
Just outside townin the old dump isa slab of concreteits twisted edges piercedby rusting rebaronce the floorof the gazebo in the commons.Etched into its surfaceJim + MarieJanet Loves Eddie.Their loves were undyingcast into stone to wearslowly through the agesnot to fall victimto the jackhammer.Jim lies underthe simple stone“Sgt. U. S. ArmyServed Vietnam,”Marie left for collegebut…
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WRITERS
I was born the same day, ina much later year as Thornton Wilder,a fact that had no impact at allon my life, since I discovered ourcommon birthday long aftermy life’s path was half tread. I read him in my youth, and mustadmit I can recall nothing of whatI read, which I attribute to allthat I…
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WE ARE IN KANSAS, TOTO
In my dream, the worldwas at peace, and I was ridingacross Kansas on a unicycle, towingmy car, packed to the windows,my dog walking alongside urgingme to speed up because shewanted to visit South Dakota.I am due for a tricycle, Iremind the dog, “the gravemore likely,” she respondswith a sneer that teeters betweenlove and spite, always…
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POSSIBILITY
It is quite possibleI had seen you beforein the hallway perhaps.I hope I smiled,I assume you did.Neither of uscould have imaginedit would one daygrow into love.
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an old writer and his words 