What is a life,
if not a chance to untangle a personal knot.
That karmic tug
to repeat and repeat
the same sequential circumstances
with no chance for a fresh approach.
The good thing about aging is that you get onto your own tricks.
Freeing those feelings that were tossed into the sea.
Being with them without condition.
Large headed, sharp beaked Kingfisher Totem Hat
upon my head, teach me your wisdom!
You, who make such a ruckus flying full speed,
only to then delicately land on a wire, mid river
Staring upstream, long distance, loving without thought.
I’m in an old fight with my husband
He’ll never do “it” right.
Loving without thought is not the realm of the ego.
To the ego, love is sacrificial.
Let me fly upstream with you.
He is a local confirmation and a blessing given
Like the Buddha
claiming the Self in the now.
How can we not join him,
bringing to earth a form of completion
as he does?
A ceremony of wonder,
and when I saw him I shouted,
“Do you know how much I have honored you?”
This is a drawing of small mouse left dead by our cat
Smooth ears, thin white whiskers, a long nose, touch of pink.
Life is not for the faint of heart
The task of witnessing the demise of the living is constant.
A woman who fed us and let us use her shower,
while we grew up ( during the Hippie era)
Is now residing in Manor Care. Her name is Millie.
I took her the last of the marigolds and a box of tea
and gingersnaps ( she only ate one)
I noticed the soft greying and blurred edges of my friend,
resting toward completion.
Throwing her head back in a ahhhhhhh at something I said
She told me that I look so good and I believed her.
Pig runs with clear purpose
hearing my voice, she knows,
her “good ” is at hand.
This morning I dumped into her pail
a failed kombucha batch, scoby and all.
Running full speed with squeals of delight
not shy in her passion, hers is an inspired call to life!
She lifts her wet nose to me just to see if there might be more?
Ours is a thrilling relationship.
Our exchange pure, compost for pig satifaction.
Like the Nazca lines in Peru
Time’s cover art is 98 feet by 65 feet
dug into the sand east of Tokyo.
2050, How the Earth Survived
This image took hold of John and shook him to his bones
He saw the larger frame, his obligation as an elder
a bigger identity then his personal life
saying “I’m going to stay”
I could feel it too,
The commitment to stay
To be a part of the unknown future, the difficulties and joys
Stepping forward to meet what comes,
Standing tall, a pillar of fire if need be.
The commitment to stay has resolved the dilemma.
Love doesn’t require perfection just willingness.
John will be 102 and I’ll be 100 in 2050, oh ya!
We want to muscle into life and feel its real power and sweep.
We want to drink from the source.
In rare moments of deep play, we can lay aside our sense of self,
shed time’s continuum, ignore pain, and sit quietly in the absolute present,
watching the world’s ordinary miracles…
When it happens we experience a sense of revelation and gratitude.
Nothing need be thought or said.
There is a way of beholding that is a form of prayer.
These are the words of Diane Ackerman and this is Jean Pierre kissing the Dolphin.