a walk

today i walked softly gently so as not to disturb

the tiny saplings and clovers on the bank of
this river’s bend quietly so as not to upend
the sound of the running stream o’er the
stones and sticks, slowly so as not to distract
little minnows swimming in their abode

i share this walk today with my two pups

jaz, my girl, as she jumps to try to catch
a butterfly that ascends surprisingly from the
clover and grass and my jules, my boy, who is
now aged deaf and blind but his head rapidly
sways back and forth his nose close to the ground
experiencing with his keen sense of smell
and ears that hear the butterflies wings flap

this river bank is where my solitude resides

where my haven of many reflecting moons
off the pristine water and the many dusks
and dawns holding many of my life’s diurnal
moans and tears and only the gentle breezes
still hold my secrets of when i learned to listen,
to breathe in deep in calm and peace and
hence i learned to see beyond myself

many a song i’ve sat here singing to the willows

whose fingers now hover over and touch the stream
to the maples who would gather the shade for me
to sit under as i would jot with pen and paper
my thoughts of dreams and love and a journey yet
to come. so here i am in my return, to thank the
willow and the maple for the wisdom they imparted
upon my nature.

a walk well worth my steps, severing my ties with ennui

a crow

love comes in different shades and sizes

it can be found in the darkest of places,
in the least of spaces:

a crow who befriended me, who

tolerated my species was visiting me
in the mornings. she was underneath the
feeders this morning lying on the ground.
i noticed that she seemed to be injured because
in seeing me approach her she flapped her wings 
but was seemingly unable to roll over and amble.  
i was going to remain at a distance and observe her.
sometimes these birds can mend and thrive without
human intervention. the day had been forecasted to
develop into an oppressively hot day and evening.
dusk came and i went out to check on her. still on her
side, i petted her around the nape area of her back.
her lamenting eyes looked up at me, with gloves on
i lifted her to looked underneath her wings and noticed
the talons on her feet were clenched tightly as if she
had a stroke, maybe from the oppressive heat.  
this being a Sunday evening, pet refuge centers
were not accessible at least near me and so in
a human empathetic attempt to comfort her, 
i placed fresh water in a shallow pan next to her
and laid some seed around her. lastly,  i placed
a mesh laundry basket over her as a protective measure
from potential predators, debris falling on her
and some protection from  elements of the weather
the next morning i went to check on her.
sadly, i observed underneath the basket, her eyes open
her talons clenched, her soul had departed
i left around her fresh bird seed and a flower
RIP my friend !

not my soul

in the black of a darken space i sit

and it tugs at my soul trying to pull it

out from it’s incarnate abode

 

cannot let it go for it’s not time

too much, yet, to see too much, yet, to do 

much more to cry and to smile about

 

and while the music plays on

i will dance and i will flail my hands

and arms toward the sky

letting it know that the heaven

sojourn will come soon enough 

 

now into the light i step

leaving the darkness behind

let life’s energy avail my soul

with a desire and wanting

to make a difference

before i go

halleluiah, life

in the dawn the flair of sunlight rises
and the choir of birds sing ‘halleluiah’
to the beginning of our new day
and that life is precious in each and
everyone’s own way

oh light of the universe, oh light of joy

bring forth this day’s abundance where
hands join and smiles evince in place of the
folded fist over the sadness and tears
over the hate and wars and heart scorned fears

rid from the minds of those where anger resides

destructive manners preside because they think
this, the only way they will survive, not knowing
that even in the marsh deep in forests, gather
species of all kinds and live in peace amongst each other

we must put our weapons down for they only

bring sadness and tears, they take away the
blossoming of life where love shares the space
and in due time the hand intertwined in another
will replace the clenched fist, the killing gun,
and we’ll grow old rejoicing that ‘life’ won

Death:

Death: it’s solemn, quiet, sometimes insidious

everyone feels the loss the emptiness the
wanting to be so strong and understanding of
something that is beyond all our grasps.
we say things thinking it will be encased
with human empathy, with understanding of
the loss but because our hearts are not the same
our souls may be but we won’t know

until we meet again. we’ll flounder about in space
and we’ll share the moment with the best of grace
yet all does nothing to assuage the pain, the loss,
the wondering, if but one more time,
i could have said ‘i love you’ , one more time
i could have taken you in my arms and said
‘you are part of me to no end’.

we will be together and journey in the same
unending path where your hand shall be in mine,
mi amiga, sing the song we sang together,
the violin whose strings you tickled so well,
i shall bring along so that Shumsky, Heifetz,
Zukerman, Perlman have nothing on us
while Mozart with baton, conducts,
leading us to the mellifluous chords and frets
residing, enmeshed, entwined in our souls

the smiles that smiled at us, that we shared
with so many will follow us to our new abode.
until then, thank you and let me shed my tears
and embrace those soft and wonderful memories

dedicated to my wife’s mother, Ruth, who passed away yesterday five minutes after my poor wife

had arrived in her room. my wife had driven ten and a half hours with her sister and her husband
after receiving a call from her brother the night before stating that their mother had stopped eating.
unfortunately I had to stay behind and babysit our two aging and sickly mini-poodles

 

in her eyes

songbirds wake me through my open window

as i roll over and there she is…long sinuous hair
and warm cheeks from the comfort of her sleep
her eyes still closed yet her eyelashes so long
they are entangled in her hair

her eyelids slowly open as my face lays

next to hers and i see the sky in her azure eyes
there's the moon and stars of our night before. slowly
her smile evinces with a radiance of the morning sun
so i need not bother looking outside my window 
to see the morning's glory for it's before me

i rise, walk out and feel the grass blades underneath

my naked feet and the breeze blows gently
from the northwest, fills my soul with
the verve of life… this gives me joy

if tomorrow i do not wake, i will have lived this

moment. i have loved and have been loved, seen
and witnessed much in this tenured life of more
days and nights, weeks months and years than many.
have felt pain and angst, smiles and tears, more
than some but surely much less than others…

if i have not become what others expected of me

and i, at moments, wondered if i could have. judge me not  
in your eyes as unaccomplished, fulfilled. do not tarry
or waste a second or minute of your concern for i am 
and have become the totality of my choices, my volition. 
for in this moment i have calm and joy in my soul and 
love fills my heart for i see the sun, the moon, the stars
before me, in her eyes

between night and day

sinuously the day comes as
the night departs miraculously
as the earth revolves as if
all was planned for us to sleep
to wake

and too

the scent of night is discernibly

different than that of the day
underneath the stars and moon
the smell of wet dew evince and form
atop the grasses and the petals on flora

and too

if one puts their ear to the silence

in the quiet in the dark one can hear
crinkling leaves and bowing blades of grass
under the weight of dew and the many
tiny tapping sounds of drops can be heard
falling from upper petals onto the lower ones

and too

the tiny feet and excavating mandibles

of little nibbles from earthbound critters
living a nocturnal life immersing  in
Nature’s sensorial waft from  
the composition of the floral eatery

and too

as the moon and tired glittery night

begins its dissent to rest letting the
sun awaken and the breath of yawning
flora and fauna arise to entertain
the day gives way the sleepy night
as the earth turns upon its axis
to beget the day

 

 

 

 

 

escape

when my footsteps have slowed nearing

the end of my stroll on the path i’ve chosen
having smelled the sassafras and the pine
eaten the wild berries and cherries
my heart has beaten in sync with love
and my eyes have shed the tears lamenting
the departure of joy

i want to hear the sound of a running brook

o’er limbs and stones
rustling leaves on trees from the breeze
and the songbirds singing later ascending to leave
their silhouettes pressed against the clouds that
soar across a now softly painted crimson sky

i wish to sit and watch the dusk roll in quietly

then hear crickets and cicadas begin their
chirping attending in their celebration until
the veil of darkness descends to visit with
the hoot of the owl and the whispering, settling
of night and the nocturnal calm arrives

my head tilts upward to gaze at tiny pin holes of light

dancing about in darken space of the sky and
a lunar smile looks down upon the cricket and the owl
whilst my eyes begin their slumber and
all else sleeps   

 

 

 

disheartened

my consciousness, my heart, my soul, is being melded
much to my disdain, against my conscious freedom of choice
by the stench of violence being perpetrated upon each other

we are angry, we are hating, we are no longer giving

value to life, to caring, to mother earth

all around those with power to make change are doing it

with destruction in their minds, in their hearts

i cry and sadness avails my soul when i wish to be joyful

because my heart aches, because my being is bombarded
by the destructive actions of man upon man and so
my 'being' reacts to this, not of my choice

if i isolate myself, insulate from what is happening around me,

i may experience temporary contentment but then, in
introspection, i wonder if my worth as a living being is of value

for now, i shall listen to music, i shall hear the whispering wind

outside my window and i shall gather my pup in my arms
kiss my love of life on her cheek while she sleeps
and hold them tight for at least this night

bluebirds at dawn

in the dawn bluebirds sing

and the rain filled clouds afford

the day a full display of their

magic colored scarves with

the helping fingers of the sun

 

i know somewhere for some

this rainbow is not within view

but only the dark clouds and storms

and for them no bluebirds can be

heard, no dawning of a dream

 

i can only hope that the universe in its

chaos and tumult will bring balance

so that those in the dark will lay their heads

to sleep and someday they’ll awaken

to songbirds, witness a rainbow in the light

of dawn giving rest to the storm

 

given it my best

laid my body at the end of day

tossed and turned could not rest
eyes closed they would not stay
the mind fussed about, still at play

an unusual darkness laid heavy on my soul

would not let me sleep, a heavy toll
my heart beat at a quicker pace
my breath waned, not, from the diurnal race

earlier in the day i had walked underneath

the clouds that made the sunlight grey
causing shadows of lilacs and lilies
look as if they were bending down to pray

and when the soft breeze blew by

gathered from the ocean and the sky
i felt the soul and spirit of life
cleansing me,  a moment free of strife

the days, now, seem to come and go so quickly

never enough time to mingle with the trees,
listen to the wind rustle its leaves or observe
the mountains shadows cast from moon beams
jiggling and dancing in the seas

i’m distracted by the staring eyes filled with

pain and angst from the hungry bellies
of humans cast aside, the forests burning
in the night, the earth no longer hides its anger 

and so when i lay my head to rest
i reflect upon my day accepting what
i can and cannot affect, only hope
to those i care for, those i love,
i've given nothing less than my best

life is a short dream

the wind blows in sounds of fury, whirling

and squealing like steel wheels noisily

rolling o'er iron train track rails, filling all
sentient space and the cracking, rustling
sounds heard from the crying flora
that lay down folding under pressure

and it leaves a path of scorn and pain
where it has stepped upon while the ominous

sclerotic spine of dirty grey can be
seen now roaring away

and as i awake from my night’s dreams

and sit longingly wondering if when
i look outside the window near where i lay
will the view be one of a fallowed land
or will all be okay

i realize, then, that it was but a journey in

my sleep where my life was in display,
transformed into a torrent of a storm
as it, so quickly, has come and gone 
so i sit here, eyes peering right and left
left and right until once again the day
gives way to the night

*inspired by Polish Nobel Laureate Wislawa Szymborska's poem; Life While-You-Wait

   made reference by an acquaintance and fine author, Katherine Eliska Kimbriel

el corazon no tiene color

el corazon duele cuando entienden casi nada

(the heart hurts when there’s little understanding)

the dark of night replaces the light of day

but never in a negative way
it arrives so that all can sleep and rest
to energize the play of the following day
black of night is enmeshed with color
white is devoid of it more of pallor

both coexist

one does not upend the other
white is in black and black has white
neither dominate nor does
one supersede the other

i see a twinkle in the eye of night

and the brightness in the light of day
both are filled with joy for it is spoken
by the wolf howling in the dusk
the owl hoot and cricket chirp of night
and then birds sing to awaken the sun
thanking the night for letting them sleep

night coexists with day so let us

both white and those of us of color
hold hands and show the universe
we are in sync with its synchrony

 

vulnerable

i look deep into the eyes of a vulnerable soul

as she stands before me with her blue grays
her one hand touches her quivering cheek
while her other one by her side trembles
as she stares out at the world before her

she has a slight of smile not giving a full one

for fear of having the world take it from her
and when she sees me looking  at her eyes
they begin to tear for she knows i can
hear her crying inside from pain and loss

her remembered days of yore unravel when she

sees i am looking deep inside her soul where angst
of loneliness and loss reside and her heart beats
like a captured bird’s does cupped in a hand and
little room seems left for salvaging her unrest

but then as i smile at her and extend my arms

she expires a sigh in relief and takes my hand
trusting that i am there to assuage her burden,
to fill the void as i tell her that i love her and
i hold her close to show her that i care

i tell her she won’t be alone and the emptiness

as her breath is slowly siphoned out as two souls
depart from the space of her world and like
a basin full of water and a cup of it is removed
it does not leave a hole although the basin now
holds less it remembers and adjusts and birds
still come play and bathe    

 

tiny sail boats out to sea

Oh, let us walk hand in hand without haste

into the dusk and then into the stars of night
after doting, through the sun lit day, at peddles
fallen from trees dancing in the breeze
as they gently move about like tiny sail boats
on the ripples of an emerging spring

let the silence from our lips speak of our hearts’

beating to the joy of their rhythm as they listen
to the songs of the feathered residents wandering
about with us knowing we had come to see them
play in their abode while serenading us through the day

for I know that your heart laments of soon

departing souls from the tethers of this world
for they have walked days and nights together
like we just did but many more than we are old
so let them sail on those tiny sail boats out to sea
with love and holding hands to where the sky rides
on the oceans's tide, too soon to be, also, you and me

 

 

*dedicated to my wife’s lamenting heart for her mom and dad,
  sixty six years together and in love, both soon to sail their boat
  out to sea, possibly together

 

learning to love

do i care the way i should, the way i can

and is the object of my caring affected
by the giving of myself not in the way
i wish them to but in the way that
affects them best, selflessly

when i whistle and a cardinal whistles

it responds because of my whistling
i understand not what i whistle
but try to replicate its tone and riff
and surely the cardinal when it whistles
back, it's speaking or singing a song to me

when i stand beside the great cherry tree

in my back yard i respect its stature
and its wisdom and i wonder if it
recognizes me, standing there, admiring
its expanding and stretching of its arms upward
trying to touch the strolling clouds

i know when i caress my two pups and stroke

them with a tenderness of care while whispering
in their ear of how their unconditional love affects
me, i tell them how they touch my heart and
the spirit of my soul and so they look up at me,
kiss me with their tiny tongues upon my chin

at this time, my dawning years, still i try to understand

of love, in all its forms, so that when i tell you
‘i love you’, you’ll understand from whence it
comes, it's not just of my heart but from the bones
of my bones, blood of my blood, the depth
of my soul and when i speak these words to you
you’ll want to whistle then raise your arms up to try
and touch the clouds and you’ll kiss my cheek

live

the sun is crisp in all its yellow and warmth today
birds are playing in air wildly, joyfully
chipmunks are vociferously chirping with heraldry
a pileated woodpecker is knocking and knocking
anomalous black and purple iris’ petals on display

i sit outside with my aging boy, jules, on my lap gently

stroking his brow and with every stroke his paws curl
on occasion he lifts up and licks my cheek
he knows i love him and  that soon we both shall sleep
my girl, jaz, lies curled up at my feet

we sit here waiting for my wife to come back home

she’s been visiting her elderly parents in total care
too many miles away. i’m sure she will want to sit here
with us when she arrives and she will also need gentle strokes

i read today a friend of mine is lamenting a loss of a buddy

repeatedly he posts…death sucks, death sucks, it really sucks
then another post i read  is about this young lady relaying her
acceptance to the end of ‘sheloshim (Judaism)…first thirty
days of intense mourning’. lost her husband too young

life is about this moment; the here and now

a rabbi’s prayer: “don’t let me die while I’m still alive”

 

*for imaginary garden~includes the senses of vision, sound, touch and emotion