awaiting Perseids
gazing up at Cygnus
winging her way westward
pushing Hercules out of the way
we learn bright new names
think of Arab princes
in towers millenia before us
seeing nearly the same shapes and colors
for as unpredictable
as a single day here is
a lifetime blinks by
with the stars in the same shapes
or nearly so
as they took
when your grandfather
was only a boy
tending to time
already the to-do list
has spilled off the table
and squeezed under the doorjamb
smothering to-be time
I’m making a small circle of now
outlining places to file down
to keep things smooth
life mindlessly carries us along
until we remember
to tend rootlets all around
August First
August sneaks up
just when you feel you’re
safely in the thick of summer
lazing through July
but school and structure
are only a breath away
the days are getting shorter
I feel it tonight
but with the dark
comes candlelight’s glow
and the warmth of the cheery lanterns
strung overhead
these are the days when
I would take my new school shoes
out of their cardboard box
admire them and smell the stiff leather
then close them back in the closet
prepared to suck whatever juice summer had left
from that popsicle quickly losing its color and tang
going ice-grey
never enough time
seconds flash by like
bullet trains
possibilities closed off
for what feels like forever
choosing choosing choosing
living with a lump in my throat
and an eye on the sweep
of the second hand
barely time to gather the beloveds
in a hug
and all this in a time
when our past life has slowed
to the mere vibration of
a solid
its crystal lattice holding space
for us to do something
meaningful
deliberate
intentional
with time now
and still it’s not enough
at least I haven’t made it be enough
to be able to rest
two masters
with a limited number of breaths
where shall I put my time:
making
or
finding homes for what I have made?
the simple answer is
both
the harder answer is
I will run out of air
before I can sleep
one month isolation
now there is time
to witness winter melting
to sit and listen to icicles drip
to watch snow go to water to wind
and yet
there is still not enough time
to do all that should be done
the hours are filled by so much less now
we forget how to be busy
accept going slow
rainy day ramblings
i
am I doing enough
to earn my time here?
(and, is it possible to also read a book?)
ii
rain on rose petals
silver linings everywhere
iii
companion = [with] [bread]
this also delimits my friend/acquaintance line:
who can I invite in next
to serve a warm thick slice?
the words around us bear
the weight of deep meanings
we don’t even bother consciously knowing
from now on companion will have
a more complex, savory taste
every time it rolls around my mouth
