always a work-in-progress

author’s note: A decades of life reduced to a few lines. THE QUIET DARK As a fledgling adult, I preferred the cacophony: I thrilled to feel the energy of the loud proud mishmash of noise roiling in the public square. But soon the commotion infested my head and I wasn’t able to hear my thoughts and feelings clearly— a problem indeed when choices must be made. I was struggling to decide which…

author’s note: I guess I could have used women instead of men in the poem below. But men are more believable. WHEN THE MEN FIRST TRIED TO TALK Word had gone out across the land:    Men need to gather together    to express what they think and feel.    That type of deep cleansing release    will benefit the world’s mental health. In response to the call nine men in our small town sat down in…

author’s note: Maybe my family should’ve sung together.  We might have learned harmony. HOW THE FAMILY FOUND THEIR GRIEF In the backyard of the old house the willow tree grieved all day, all night long. But inside the house the family sang happy songs. Sometimes all day, all night long. Their music lightened many hearts. But while they played the willow weeped— its thin leaves drifted…

author’s note: Written after watching the 2019 documentary The Seer and The Unseen. THE MAGIC OF IMAGINATION One long-time resident can actually see the legendary elves who inhabit our island. This woman especially enjoys a quaint village she recently found in a shadowy stand of oak between two little knolls. Yes, I believe her stories because I can see the shine in her eyes when she tells…

I not only wake up from dreams, I also wake up in dreams… Such as this recent one: I wake up in bed in the middle of the night and discover the lights in the house aren’t working. A fuse must have blown.  Maybe a couple of them. Only one light remains on: a bulb shines down on a round dining table.  But that’s not enough light.  I know I have a box of fuses around here somewhere.  Just need…

SPOILER ALERT: Yes, I reveal much of what happens in Atlantic City, the movie under discussion.  But I also leave a lot of good stuff out.  Including the scene with Robert Goulet at the hospital.  We’ve all seen this movie: Someone who’s struggling meets a wise man or woman and their life is changed forever.  Atlantic City1 is not that movie, though I think its protagonist, Sally Matthews, may…

author’s note: A poem for our dusty, stormy times. A WISE ONE TELLS ME HOW TO BECOME A WISE ONE When I decided I’d like to someday be one of the wise elders of our village I asked one of the wisest of the wise what I could do to get from where I was to where they were. How were they able to stay so clear when those mad winds blinded the rest of us with dust? How were they able to stay so…

author’s note: “Strumming my pain with his fingers”            — from a poem by Lori Lieberman THE WIND STRUMS MY STRINGS One twilight evening I heard a gust of wind strum the out of tune strings of a cheap guitar abandoned in a trash bin. Then another gust rang the guitar then a third banged the strings. Though discordant those chords made a spark in the depths of my heart. A feeling beyond…

author’s note: Inspired by a photo of the 900-year old Camel Thorn trees at Namib-Naukluft National Park in Namibia. THE SYMBOLIC TREE The stark beauty of that desert plain was enhanced by the presence of a single tree. Dead for hundreds of years but well-preserved by the dry conditions and the chemical composition of those grains of sand. Like a hand that tree reached up from the golden…

In a recent dream, I suddenly realize I’m making a mistake… …by not allowing an unseen intruder inside. In the dream… An invisible being begins to push my front door open.  I immediately respond by pushing back.  Though I’m unable to close the door completely, at least that unknown force can’t enter.  But then I realize my mistake: I should open my door to that unseen being.  As long as I…

author’s note: Why did I choose the beach? I wanted to make my hair wavy. NET OF MEMORIES Fatigued by certain persistent memories that afternoon I laid down on the ocean beach hoping to find some peace. And as I dozed between two worlds a wave came up and sloshed my head. Then receded— dragging all the bric-a-brac in my brain away— away into the gently-breathing bay. Soon another wave would…

author’s note: My dancing feet refuse to learn dance steps.  I think they just want to be free. MY FESTIVE SONG AND DANCE I told the wise one: “The love I feel in my heart   seems inadequate for the task of life—   I’ve tried but can not lose   that quietly persistent sense of lack.” And in reply the wise one said: “Yes, you love the rain   but you hate   when rainwater floods your…

SPOILER ALERT: In the piece below, I reveal how the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey ends.  And a lot more about the film besides that.  But I also leave a lot out.  Including the Strauss. In the past, if asked if computers would eventually rule the world, I’d answer: “Be serious—all you’ve got to do is pull the plug.” But now, I realize the obvious: You can’t pull the plug if you depend on the…

author’s note: We seem to be metaphor-making machines. METAPHOR IN THE GRAY SEASON OF RAIN Yes, I’m caught in the flood of a cold gray season of rain. But please, don’t worry about me: Though sad, I’m not drowning— I now know how to swim in these waters. I know I can reach the distant shore. Yes, I sometimes become tired in the effort and feel I might sink. But then I lie all the way…

author’s note: Realism. THE INVISIBLE BRIDGE A wise one once told me I’d eventually find a magical world by walking down this path. So I set off with great hope, vowing never to give up. But after many years filled with many thrilling trials today, I encountered an obstacle seemingly insurmountable: I found myself at the edge of a steep cliff with a deep dark chasm below. I could see the…

Maybe you can’t teach an old dog new tricks… But maybe the dog can teach itself.  Consider this recent dream: I see three pans on a stovetop.  All have lids. I choose the smaller of the three—somehow I know it’s ready and the others aren’t.  I pour out the contents of that pan, then quickly work the material into shape.  There’s a sense of ease in what I’m doing.  In this dream, I see three…

author’s note: Still shrinking. A PARADOX OF SIZE One day I told a wise tree: “I sense I’m being driven from within  but I can’t see what  I am trying to accomplish.” With a sigh, the tree then said: “You can’t see because  your deepest desire is buried so deep. “Look down deep and you will see: “That you want to cross over a threshold  so you live in a mansion open to the sky.  There, you…