but for a moment

 

…my mind is busy with juxtaposed thoughts of

ramblings and misgivings, intermittent nostalgia,

faces pictured in my memory no longer a call away

for where their souls reside need not a phone and

those who are still in the reach of my warm embrace

have since journeyed onto their chosen paths now

distantly ascended from mine

 

sometimes i wish to live the life of the quiet and

stillness of a sunflower who sways with the wind,

kissing the rays of the sun by day, letting bees and

butterflies upon its stamen play by day then under

the moon’s light kisses, the night’s lacrimal dew

rest on its petals awaiting to impress upon the

morning with its glittering delight

 

if i could be, for a moment, a mountain with my

head in the clouds or the sea crashing its waves

on promontories on shores letting sand between

its tides as they ebb and flow, or even to be a tree

where lovely birds perch and sing upon my limbs,

while breezes rustle my leaves

i love, therefore, i am

 

does the tree know when the bird perches on its limb,

the daisy, does it know when the bee buzzes about

and does the river know when the salmon swims in its

running stream much like me being cognizant of my

rambling thoughts, my deep breaths, the ache in

my heart for my fellow man?

 

the cardinal, does it know what song to whistle in order

to call attention to herself letting others know of her

presence and although our canine child responds to our

demands, does she really love us the way we love her or

is her love more innocent, pure and selfless?

 

when the eagle soars o’er looking down at the wolf

howling are they sharing their views as when the

sun lends its light to the moon at night are they aware

of each other’s purpose to help grow the flora and make

the tides of the seas ebb and flow for marine life to thrive

and grow?

 

and when the breath of life is no longer present in me,

will what mine eyes have seen, my ears have heard,

my taste buds tasted, my fingers sensitively touched,

and my spirit has danced to, will all this persist to exist

somewhere in the realm of the universe, most importantly,

will I remember love and will it remember me?

 

 

transition and change

 

Like the daisy who in Spring sprouts with ebullience

for it sees the sun above and feels and the soft gentle

breath of Nature on its petals that prods it to dance

in the breeze in celebration to its new beginnings

 

So too did I, when youth filled my being, did dance

about every morning of my waking t’if my innocence

was the gift of life never to be forsaken. The Spring

of my youth was the weave of my attire always to

be worn, never thinking it to be frayed or stripped

 

But to my despair and awakening, not only has my

Innocence been taken, my youthful exuberance has

waned, not because mine eyes see less clear, my arms,

my legs no longer with the same strength, no longer

run with prancing deer

 

This unnerving and less than desired transition from

youthful energy comes not just from an unavoidable

aging and time but because some ‘one’ and his enablers

now are clouding o’er the shining light of dreams

and hopes for not just me but for most in ‘our country’

 

Too many are in queues for food handouts, those who

can only their love ones from behind glass enclosed

spaces who may or may not survive their medical malady,

those whose children have been separated from family

and are in cages, those who have been stripped of dignity

and are now jobless and homeless, those who fear to leave

their home for fear of violence because of pigment…

 

Our societal dystopia has now been made real, exacerbated

by an insidious pandemic, by lack of addressing the historic

societal woes by enabling voices that are propagating hate

and lies in denial of the inherent systemic racism, sexism

homophobia now being drawn out from the once hidden of

its pervasiveness, all now being prodded and fueled, by ‘one’  

vitriolic voice…

 

conduit from me to thee

 

and like the ocean whose presence is

the world where marine life exists and

giving aesthetic value with its teal blue

by day, black in the noir of night

 

and so too the azure sky who garners  

puffy figurines on its face casting shadows

below and silhouettes of osprey soar about

watching o’er the mirror of the ocean’s floor

 

and like grand mountain peaks keeping

the sky from falling while at their base tall

sequoias stand sturdy letting streams of melting

tops run down and through their rooted feet

 

all, know their purpose in Nature’s arms

while I sit here wondering …what am I to be

in the scheme of all this? a conduit of the heart

and eyes to see, passing on from me to thee?

super synchrony, a balance

 

strength comes from understanding the balance

of ‘ Being’ in the likes of Nature and the spirit of

the Universe, the ‘super-synchrony’; that which

is within in sync with the external, the ‘all’, the ‘one’.

 

my strength is; allowing a free flow of emotions to be

expressed, thoughts, by choice, directed toward the

positive nature of a progressive mindset but being

careful not to restrict the free flow of creativity, for

‘imagination is more important than knowledge…’

 

the sturdiness and strength of a great Sequoia or a

grand old Oak come from their rooted feet where

underneath they drink from the water of streams and

the nutriments of the Earth while above from the rain,

nutrient from the Sun, dancing with the wind as it

whistles through its limbs and rustles its leaves

 

and as i sit underneath on rooted feet of this large

Elm hovering o’er my backyard, i listen to the cardinal

the robin, the sparrow and wren perched on its limbs,

i sit quiet, become selfless as the dusk arrives, and we

wave goodnight to the sun, welcome the stars and moon

as they arrive dressed in their night attire

 

 

Nature's Song

 

when a storm of rain comes down in torrents,

the wind blows with intent of destruction

and the gray of clouds displays of portentous,

i listen to the universal vibrations of music

my heart is soothed, my spirit calming

 

music lets me smile in the face of despair when

much around me is in aridity, of lament and woes,

while pain and suffering deride the peace that

should be inherent in the vestibule of Nature’s

plan with the Sun by day and stars delight by night

 

if your heart is aching and your spirit torn and you

have not access to a piano, a music box or horn

then choose to take a moment and listen to birds

for they are singing praises, the vibrations of

Nature’s song

glitter of love

Ah, the waft of petrichor,

titillating tiny droplets find

their way down to verdant feet

where they were meant to lay

and give a sparkle to the otherwise

grey of day

t’is the fondness of this moment

that incites reveries and will paint

upon the canvas of my memory, to

sometime in the future, avail me of

a fondness in nostalgia

soft classical piano guitar fills the room

while still i can hear the cardinals and

sparrows praising Nature’s early day as

i sit here looking out our front room’s window

with my arm around my wife and our two

children of canine genetic descent

of this, i inhale a breath of joy hence life

has provided me and am grateful of this

wonderous gift that has been bestowed upon

me, so with a smile and a soft and slighted tiny

tear, i thank Life’s Spirit for showing me this

glitter of ‘Love’

music reminds me of her

...music reminds me of her...

she knows not when i cast mine
eyes upon her whilst her face
doth capture the light of day and
the wind whispers to the flower

my heart flutters with a joy that is
not present in her absence like the
night without the stars and moon
or the day with clouds of gray

in her presence my spirit dances
my soul rejoices and savors from
the carafe that holds the sweet
of life’s drink

July 4th, 2020

I’ve witnessed ‘Day of Independence’ celebration in the United States of America today for the sixty first time. I came to ‘America’, no, I was brought to America when I was eight years young (now, a long time citizen). Knowing nothing about this land named America, when first mine eyes, wide and in awe, beheld the grand mountains peering outside the station wagon windows as an unwitting little person passenger. A piece of bread was given to me for sustenance that I put in my front pocket of my plaid short sleeve shirt. I picked and nibbled at pieces from it. It was supposed to last me all day and I made it last.

In 1972*, I recall being witness to this, another 4th of July celebration, made memorable because of a sense of relief (I hate fireworks) that no other young person was forced to go to 'hell', the end to the Vietnam draft had been announced on June 28th. Too late for over 58 thousand lives lost to an
'unnecessary' war; Because Ike and Tina Turner were singing on the radio station; Nixon and Agnew were enmeshed in Watergate and the Presidential election was around the corner.

Today (I hate firework explosions), the day’s sense of celebration is absent inside my heart and spirit because of ‘Black lives lost’; because the children of my ‘brown’ people have ripped away from the arms of mothers and placed in cages; Because COVID lives lost, many because of ineptness and an uncaring governance. Because the ‘moral fiber in the sense of human empathy in these United States of America has been corrupted by the vitriol and hate voices, led by ‘one’

I hope in 2021, when we celebrate the next 4th of July, the America that aspired to be, as found in the 1776 writ of ‘The United States of America Constitution’, will be one of a caring nation, of fairness and equal justice, inclusiveness. That we have elected a leader of our loved country that is willing to promote human morals, befitting the good of humankind, that promulgates equality and justice for all.

It begins with each one of us arising to vote, being kind to one another which will lead to listening to each other. We are inherently, if not intrinsic and genetically, morally good and caring human beings...

marellano

day, dusk, night

the Sun shall shine again with a glow of gold and

breath of warmth as the wind will become jealous,

blowing and swirling calling attention to itself despite

the sun’s prominence of yellow radiance and its warmth,

won’t be distracted by a cooling wind arriving with avarice

intent of a whirling and whistling breeze whispering, ‘I’m cool’

then dusk sneaks quietly in, arriving later than on a winter’s

day subtly waving at the Sun to go away and to rest, for it has,

thus, performed its diurnal duty on a lovely Spring day and as Its

dawning of the evening grey arrives, slowing terrestrials playing

asking Robins, Cardinals and Wrens to listen for nocturnal coos of

turtle doves as they praise their stay under starlight of a night sky

someday soon, through the grey and portentous of

the present disquiet, we will again begin our day with

elated spirit of wonderment and curiosity as to what the

day will once again bring, of how the heart shall feel when

the songbird shall raise its voice and lift our morning spirits

when dawn arrives, again rising with the sun and life’s verve   

a 'peace' of 'kind'

when i sit still and quiet, mine ears can

listen to the silence, they can pick up the

waves of what has come before and those

that otherwise i would not hear if i was

not in the present, ‘here’

my heartbeat is challenging every breath,

take in an energy of which both partake

allowing the verve of ‘Life’, of my being,

sprout and challenge the angst of which

so much is prevalent

today, now, the dress that Nature is wearing

is sunny and warm and so i raise my spirit

so that the spirit of my friends and family

can also witness the calm and peace that is

what i feel within

i ask of you to choose the good within yourself

and not the anger or the hate, to, if nothing

more, smile at someone, open your hands,

your arms for a warm embrace, share the best

of yourself, of the Human-Race

can you be ‘kind’ today?

life's smile

a flower question’s not

why and seemingly without

pain when its petals fall

the tree’s leaves bristle

and dance seemingly with

joy, in the breeze

the sun rises giving delight

to the day for this i know

because birds sing

when the moon smiles at

night the oceans seem to rise

and clap, stars glitter in glee

when thy smile, upon my face

also appears, t’if i were but a  

mirror to thine soul 

these mornings, now

…mine eyes open lately in mornings

with a spirit of reckoning, a sense

of foreboding, present in the

waking of these todays

likened to a grey ominous sky in lieu

of a bright golden sunrise while a loft

of aviary choir fills the morning stillness

after a restless nocturnal stay

i wish to hear the cardinal sing again with

mellifluous song that lifts my spirit, turns

the day from one of portent to one touched

 by the sun’s fingered rays

and so too, for a light of sprinkle rains that

shall rinse away and cleanse not just the

virus of disease but awaken the spirit that

once garnered love in lieu of hate…

stars soothe the pangs

the twinkle of stars in the dark of night

sooth the spirit when feeling alone through

the pangs of long days, then dreams to ease

the angst never come, for restful sleep desists

when first i searched the night sky for these stars

‘twas when but a ‘tot’ of six or so and left alone

with my other siblings but our papa had left us,

mamasita trying to give us shelter, never home

many years have passed, mamasita has left for

heaven’s home, although i need not for anything,

inside my wife sleeps and outside underneath the

night sky i look up to search for those stars again

letting light in

‘Darkness’ no longer instills fear within,

this being: a color that fills a space and

not that which lingers in the crannies

of a mind, heart or spirit

it had been instilled as a hurtful place,

a place of emptiness, one of loneliness

but as naivete waned it became a cove

of solitude where ‘selfless’ is found

in the years that have accrued, i’ve learned

that in darkness there is light and when

light pierces through, darkness is eviscerated

from that space where fear resides

in my learning of gathered years of aging,

‘Hate’ has replaced the space that darkness

once resided, for it is this demon that must be

squelched, it must be destroyed

some carry this ‘hate’ in their pockets for they

have been bitten and devoured by it and on

every occasion will pull it out to contaminate

all that surrounds, in hearts and minds

let us not fear ‘hate’ for then it will have won

my words for you

If my words reach your eyes

or in your ears, let them also

touch your heart, your spirit

in a way that’s soft and gentle

soothing and calming

like keys on a piano in the treble clef

or the strings on a violin that make

the cilia like hairs on your arms and

legs stand up and dance, t’if a warm

breeze titillating them

if by chance my words inspire to picture

in your mind of cool sparkling brooks and

streams so clear the eyes can see pink

salmon running, deer drinking from them and

upon its banks are strewn of flowery meadows

to reminisce of memories fond and loving

even if they cause tears to flow from missing

love ones of those that have come and gone

and even of loves faltered and hearts scorned,

days forlorn, now passing of dissipated mourn

if my words have touched your sensibilities

then i shall have painted on your diurnal canvas

for you to appreciate and share of what is

in our hearts, our souls

blessed

Spring in March is coming soon so in my dream

i dreamt of warm breezes, of calm and peace

while sitting underneath my pink blossoming

Crabtree

i sat in silence, thought i heard the flower open,

the Sun rise, letting the petals of the flower feed

from its fingertips of rays and ever so clearly listen

to an avian chorus praise the beginning of today

my heart flutters with joy, blessed to witness this

and feel my spirit dancing within as the purple

passion unabashedly displays its color, the lilac

shares Itself so that all can sense the waft of day

shall ride this moment for all its worth because i

know not all are witness to this, for some cannot

see or smell, feel breezes that make flowers dance

or be seduced by the morning, dusk or night, their

great misfortunes in life provide them little chance  

a moment of calm

shadows cast not, when grays hover o’er

but what is grand is the tickling upon my skin

from tiny drizzles of rain that slowly empty

the bloviated cumulus that dangle from the sky

i tilt my head toward the heavens so that i can

witness the tiny droplets falling, scurrying down

to be the first to touch the ground and quench

the thirst of the daisy, the lily and the tree

i am grateful for this moment distracting me

from the woes that surround, from the pangs

and angst of life’s beguiles, from lament and

tears of those i witness and i feel their pain

and when this moment passes, let it be that

the smile upon my face, the memory of this

calm and gentle pace i may share with others

and those within the circle of my love

my steps today

step by short step i walk the day

i look around, witness the surround

smell the waft of the conifer, the flower

feel the breath of what fills the lungs of life

now dusk, i sit on the lap of my crab apple tree

to see the large warm star lay rest in the horizon

am witnessing the silhouette of a winged friend fly

amidst the canvas of a mellowing day, now sleepy sky

in my quiet underneath the stars and a smiling moon

i listen to the rustlings of life i speak from my spirit within

to the spirit of the universe giving thanks for allowing me this

moment and those that came before as i strolled through this day

snow's delight

water droplets are miraculously transformed as

they fall out from clouds into sculptured snowflakes

each unique on its own but when they fall together

from the sky they turn the horizon white

they fall from above into the crisp Winter winds

then onto rustic colored tree limbs, atop shingles on

roofs, on stalks and atop sleeping petals of flowers

then cover in a white blanket golden blades of grass

when the snowflakes lay to rest on tops of who it’s

befallen, it covers all with an alabaster white by day

on the winter’s rustic hue but in the in the noir of

night it paints a bright white from the moon’s light