notes and things....

 

When we loose our balance, we learn 

ours is less than certain, but forgiving, 

and even though taken for granted, 

much appreciated. 

**

Summer settles slow here

as fog leaves and September

daylight loses length…

traces bare, yet felt, soft 

and breath-held,

like a poem.

**

—strategy…well, ok…the desire 

     

     to show the things of our world

       as they show us,

       

           the effort to be true as we can  

             to the truths things bring us, 

               to work from there 

**

In day’s light before the touch

of rays of sun, 

rolled closed buds chill brushing fingers, 

pass dreams bees may dream ?

**

Warm morning, brown-tipped leaves

tell of fall’s return, in its time,

green to yellow and red,

full to empty.

**

Moving, just now moved

to the edge of complaint,  

there looking over to see 

deep pooled silence, 

still, undisturbed, mirror 

wondering eyes.

**

Having glaucoma, my eyes refuse

to cooperate with abrupt intrusions

of darkness or of light, insist 

on deliberate revelation from both, 

clarity the end goal I’ve no choice 

but to go along with: 

             slow, steady steps.

**

San Francisco summers

Mark Twain wrote of as winters,

blustery and cold like this September 

morning, just outside city lines

that capture so many hearts, minds

and imaginations, not in spite of

but because…

**

The wife reads more these days,

me less, more inclined to write, pages

for future discovery I suppose. But no,

really, neither for some then, nor them,

but for now and me, my love of pen 

on page, and all to be seen 

and learned in this. 

**

These journal pages will line the way 

these next weeks

through peoples and countries 

north on the globe, 

mountains, lakes, snow banks, 

music and art, cascading  

open pages 

taking 

whatever next reaches 

to touch 

the trust here.

**

hesitation tells

purpose pursues

intention does

**

watching the second hand

click it’s turn around and around, 

not a care in the world for the counting 

going on around it

**

waiting happens

waiting, no need 

to rush 

**

—Lake Lucerne

waking, mountain early,

to brisk cold, chisel cut coffee

dark and hot—awake 

means alive here, embodied,

joyful, fierce—we just go

**

morning light in Zermatt

finds the Matterhorn first