Thursday, March 22, 2012

Live Now

How could we know,
so young as we were,
that it would pass like this?
And it does pass,
faster than we know.
Each moment passes,
so enjoy each moment.
Enjoy the look of dawn outside the airport windows,
enjoy the murmur of small clusters of people ordering food
or consulting with airline agents,
conversing with travel partners.
The rhythmic regular click click click
of suitcase wheels across a tiled floor
punctuates the sussuration of conversation.
Admire the contrast of crisp blue light against white,
the aroma of the next fresh pot of coffee
at the vendor's booth.
Enjoy the image in your mind
of your lover welcoming you at your return,
the smooth feeling of silk on your arms and legs.
Know that it is good.
All will be well.
All manner of things shall be well.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Yes, I know it has been a long time, over a year. Those of you who know me personally know that in that year I have accomplished a great deal of writing, just not here at this blog. I wrote, shared, and defended my portfolio (thus becoming A.B.D.), wrote a prospectus for original research for my dissertation, and have begun said dissertation.

The strange turn of weather -- spring in March, rather than in May or June -- has inspired me to write more than my usual every-other-day-or-so haiku.

Maybe It's the Weather

What shall we put out
at the end of the driveway today?
In this surreal season of climate change
when the jet stream wanders
like a weekend garage sale warrior,
and daffodils co-exist with snowdrops
that have clearly jumped the shark,
knowing neither shark nor social media,
we need to find some items
sure to be picked up by treasure seekers,
travelers down the back road byways.
Okay, let's carefully prop up
a pair of nineteen fifty riding boots (non-cowboy edition),
a pre-digital rabbit-eared television,
some bookend bed posts,
and my beleaguered past,
the one that returns to me in my dreams
almost every night: the former student,
the ex-husband, the rejected boyfriend from hell.

It can't all be about interesting words
and striking imagery.
Sometimes we must put something up there
of real value
and sit on the porch to watch
a car slow, pull over, and stop.
The valued item, the piece of your heart or soul,
is lifted into a truck or a back seat.
The finder is elated,
and you have room in your heart or soul
for the Now.