Nov 28, 2020
I got to listen to a concert this afternoon and it felt so good i had to do a sing. Remember when I wrote music to some of the poems I made about things I was grateful for? Feeling the Live Oaks today.
seen from Colombia
seen from Nepal
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from India
seen from Singapore
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Iraq
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
I got to listen to a concert this afternoon and it felt so good i had to do a sing. Remember when I wrote music to some of the poems I made about things I was grateful for? Feeling the Live Oaks today.
doing my own thing instead of work
The count is paused that ever onward marks Each hour into its proper use or waste; This gap in purpose mixes lights and darks When work and rest are, as preferred, so placed. In such a nebulous assignment gleams A promised respite from the forward march, So disposition executes such dreams As lie beneath ambition's prudent arch. In this lacuna of the working year, Strength may return as leisure girds the heart, And options long-discarded reappear Which seemed beyond a spent aspirant's art. Change is as good as rest, or so they say, But both are better, given holiday.
12/25/2018
Buoyancy
To float is easier by far for some; An inspiration levels out the force That otherwise the darker depths would plumb And separate the waters in their course. The very composition of a frame, Its substance and its distribution set, May this advantage by its balance claim And never be by heaviness beset. It is not metaphorical, this boon, Though in that way I also bear good luck: I am of level stuff most blithely hewn, And drift more placid even thunderstruck. The physical, though, grants my form this gift: A buoyancy no effort needs to lift. 4/3/2018
Theatrical catharsis
It would have been enough to share our minds, To seed compassion, open soul-deep doors, For stories are the common tie that binds Each separated heart that blindly soars Into experiences never seen Or into those that differ from its sphere And feel those differences do not demean In pointing out wherever they appear-- It would suffice, if this were all the gain To profit those who saw a story played, But though it is a certain kind of pain, It lifts the weight of worlds, in certain trade: To feel so deeply we reset our souls In sharp catharsis, ancient players’ goals. 4/2/2018
Wildflowers
They were designed for other eyes than ours-- Our lot is to appreciate by chance-- And though they bloom but half of these spring hours In light that we are blind to, others dance To tunes of bounty, banquet newly found. We join rejoicing, even knowing nought Of nectar’s paths, the plenties that abound, For this is not a feast that we have sought-- And yet haphazard patterns carpet fields And scattered colors blend and come apart, So luck determines what their fitness yields: A wash that never was contained by art. It is enough to glut our eyes with hue Here visible, spring’s clearest, brightest cue. 4/1/2018
Confidence onstage
A danger so much safer than it feels-- Adrenaline cannot discern the truth-- It fires the heart, through blood and taut nerve steals, From prickled hair to shivered bone and tooth To catch the lung and set the voice to shake, To move the heat from hands to flushing face, Until the strength of habit starts to take And practice locks the mind into this race, For though all this we may have dared alone, This instant marathon is no surprise: It is an effort we now fully own, And now the storied path through us may rise. The fear and worry slough with every word, And now internal truth is outward heard. 3/31/2018
Ferns
A sweet primordial relic: of an age When earth was not what we would recognize. Before seed, animal, or flower; gauge Of time unknowable to our new eyes-- This curl so tender-grown, turned form its core Like no remaining other rooted life, A line apart from sisters by the score, Unfurling nodes with fleeting fractals rife. Now spirals lie in stone and forest both, A presence near unchanged in eons long, And standing forth in beauty like an oath: The delicate is often passing strong. Full orders rise and fall as epochs turn, But life-strewn land has always known the fern. 3/30/2018
Posse reunion
It is an easy groove to find again. The swift belonging fervently returns: We each have roles now, just as we did then, And wit’s reward still warmth abundant earns. Our number changes; fellowship remains, And missing presences are close in care, Even as distance yet remaining wanes: Though we are not all here, we are all there. The competition and support both rise, The secondary web is well refreshed And friendships reachieve initial size Or further grow as we do, firm, enmeshed. An old, hidden potential blooms anew As we submit our lives to peer review. 3/29/2018