I visited Russia just after the Berlin Wall came down.
Kindred- kind people, not unlike my own.
“there was strawberry jam on oatmeal and
the art museums, The Hermitage
and the little ladies with black arm bands
telling me about the siege of St Petersburg.”
So in a bold moment yesterday- I sent a Valentine to Putin.
In a quantum leap- the particle becomes a wave.
“““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““`
When I was little, I imaged the iron curtain
As a tall corrugated -fluted wall of shiny metal
That my love could cross over.
Guess I’m still at it….
Virtual Valentine Transmission-
Received
(as it turns out)
Only by me
But maybe it only takes one of us
To fulfil the circuit of love’s mighty current.
Quantum Valentine.
her soup pot 
Love this. Reminds me of when years ago I used to write love letters and then burn them in the fireplace. Sometimes I would photograph the charred remains. Something about transformation, life and death.
I also have attended a cremation. It was my Mom’s in 2018. My brother didn’t want to go. Such bittersweet presence in the anonymous building and white cardboard box and the conveyor belt taking her into the flames of the furnace. I chanted the Gayatri which I learned by heart years ago when I was a Sai Baba devotee. I stayed for quite awhile after the furnace doors shut and chanted her into the great beyond. Brings tears into this vulnerable heart just now. Thanks for creating this opportunity!
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