From One Photograph

I came here to write about the valley of the apricot trees
I came here to sit down and smoke that last cigarette

I might not have been all that you thought
I might not have fallen onto bended knees

I came here to write about what in time turned to nought
I came here to escape the shadow and the silhouette

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World Maps, Personal Relationships

About three lines in I had, in that one moment of clarity, a feeling of intense calm, with a real sense of purpose. Of course déjà vu and nostalgia played their parts; having once felt love I was able to feel love again.

And so I say thanks to this quiet Sunday morning, with birdsong, and sunlight on vases of daffodils. Yes the rest of the world is also waking; folks setting out their own precious moments.

As yesterday when my son Joseph's girlfriend Marija showed photographs of her country; exploring the castles, the lakes, and the beaches of Lithuania. All the while my own son lay on the sofa dozing; was he impervious to the attention, or was he happy at Marija's ease in our company.

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Thought Paths to Translucency

I have no more the desire to not have desire than I have to be desirous of other desires

Always the images find a path, in and out of the cerebral cortex, in and out of the daylight of the sunshine mind

So I become calm, to see the flowers wave in the breeze, to read Buddha Maitreya's words on self and ego

Yet I know that life is not one long stream of lotus blossoms, yes I know that I have to climb the hill before I reach the temple

But the gas man is on his way, and soon the boiler will be working, giving warmth throughout the household

Although it is not particularly cold this morning, it is a surprise that last night's clear sky, with stars and crescent moon

Did not bring a frost, instead the clouds provide a blanket which the sun gradually breaks through

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Melodious Not Melodrama

The light arrives

Slow, sure, and certain

Brighter every moment

Overwhelming sometimes

With glare and reflection

Yet always the gift of energy

Always the gift of life

And shadows, through the trees

And haze, through the mist

And, should you see the music stand

You could believe that the notes

Are there for you alone

Or, because you feel benevolent

You might share this sun, choose

To share this day, to share this

Happy-go-lucky Blue Nile melody

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Waking, Moving, And Writing

I woke, it was dark

I rose

I was somewhere in between

I moved, it was moving

I chose

Nowhere to be seen

I brewed tea, it was warm

My repose

The very thing I mean

I sat, it was quiet

I suppose

That time again to redeem

I thought, that's the sunlight

Prosaic

The light on which I lean

I write, it was morning

Frozen

Thinking of what might have been

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