Poetry & Prose 2019
Looking for the Way
I am sitting on the wharf, contemplating the river under the wintry sky, when a voice says, “How are you doing?”
Looking up, I see a tall rangy bearded man in a floppy black coat looking down at me with an unshaven grin, which might be a leer.
I shrink back a little - but what might he do? Grab me? I don’t think so, he doesn’t seem dangerous.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I say, smiling at him.
Gratified, he asks, “You’re not cold?”
“No,” I say, “I’m just fine.”
Then, “How do I look?” he asks, and steps back so I can take all of him in. He’s tall, about 45, dark complected, with a buzz cut and black eyes, and besides the floppy black coat, he sports black pants and purple sneakers, the laces long lost. The clothes are old, but not ragged or dirty, and his smile is eager.
“I guess you look fine!” I say.
As if that was what he wanted to hear, he offers me a black rubber gloved hand, which I shake.
“I’m Brandon,” he says.
“I’m Trudi,” I say.
He looks like he would like something more. Probably a girlfriend, but that can’t be it, I’m decades too old. I imagine he is just lonely, and I wish I knew how to offer my friendship without risking contamination by the knife-edge existence he leads. But I am chicken, and the best I can do is what I’ve done, to smile at him and exchange a few friendly words.
He understands. Taking his leave, he turns away, waving goodbye as he walks off down the wharf.
I look after him, glad to have spoken with him, but bemused, not sure what I would do if I were a wiser and more courageous person.
A moment later, an Asian family comes by, father, mother, and child, and they smile at me and nod, as if I have done something good, something they would do if they could.
I watch them walk on down the wharf, then I stand up and follow, back toward the riverside park and the streets of the city. I hope I will see Brandon again somewhere, sometime, and I hope that then I will know how to do what I really need and want to do: how to treat him as someone who, deep inside, is just like me.
Sipping Tea
Sipping my tea in this little café, the ripples of sound flowing through me, the people all around me, the warmth of the fire on my face, a soft wellbeing fills me – for no reason at all, nothing remarkable has happened, I have not won the lotto. I am simply here, alive in my warm body, among other human beings I have never met, but those whose glance I meet smile at me. The music ends, but its aura lingers… and the wellbeing I feel lingers like a gentle foundation. Music transforms the air it passes through, turns my being sunny, rosy, sweet, meaningful, profound. Deep as water, as night, as the sea, as the sky. It’s all just love.
A Lesson on Entropy
A long time ago, when our kids were young and my sister Robin traveled with our family to Buenos Aires, we spent a night at a decrepit hotel where the air conditioner leaked all over my daughter’s bed, drenching it so that she couldn’t possibly sleep in it. When we complained to the manager, he could only giggle and explain that there was no solution.
But as we stood contemplating the disaster, my sister started to laugh. “Oh my God,” she spluttered, “No wonder! Look at the brand name!”
We looked.
“Huh - what’s ‘entropy’?” asked one of the kids.
“It’s the tendency of everything in the universe to fall apart!” said Robin.
It couldn’t have been more perfect, and we laughed and laughed, the meaning of the word imprinted on us forever more.
To preserve that moment in amber, and to give the story a happy spin, I wrote this poem:
A Fable about Failure, Understanding, and Letting Go
Silo says
it is important to understand
what you think and what you say,
because thoughts
produce and attract
actions.
He says
power and light
live in the depths.
To understand
means to go deep down,
to penetrate
beneath the surface
and see
how everything
is connected.
Not knowing this
a man who wanted money
and prestige
fell in love with an idea.
He launched a company
and gave it a name
in the language of success.
He did not understand the name
but he was besotted
like a mother who names her child
Tristeza
without understanding that it means
Sadness.
The company made many things
all glitzy with shine and promise
and the people bought them
drooling
until they discovered
that everything the company made
always fell apart.
The man could not understand it
until a friend
whispered in his ear
the meaning of the impressive name
which was “entropy.”
Then the man
who deep down was humble
laughed
and threw away all his ideas
and began to rebuild his life.
THE SOLUTION
Early morning brainstorm from a proud graduate of the American Public School System
This morning I woke at 5:30 - just enough sleep, with the help of a pill that will add just one more tad to the likelihood that i will lose my mind. But it’s worth it. Since the holidays began, my whole body has been going thru loop de loops of weird phenomena and fake illnesses I won’t embarrass myself by describing, my tinitus has been yelling like an irate chorus of tiny bees, and now my sleep has been getting out of whack.
I put it all down to stress; a number of my dear ones are going through difficulties, and although I dip into the cesspool of the news as little as possible, I can’t shut out the reality that utter insanity, cruelty and stupidity pretty much rule the world.
Dwelling on all this as I lay there in the dark this morning, I had a random thought. Since i was in semi-sleep, my logic may have been just a bit flawed, but it convinced me completely at the time.
What if I got ten people together and we each gave each other a penny, I mused? Each of us would spend 10 cents, and each of us would get back a dollar. Hmmm. And if we were 100 people? Then we’d each spend $10 and get back $1000. And if we were 1000 people, we’d each spend $100 and get back $10,000. If we were 10,000, every single one of us would become a millionaire for an investment of a mere $100.
I checked and rechecked my math, and it seemed to be flawless. So I had to take it to the ultimate, ridiculous, but rather fascinating extreme.
If we started small, and kept up this process, eventually everybody in the world would be wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. And when the day came that every one of the eight billion of us had $80 million dollars sitting around, we could all gave a penny to every other person alive. Then the wealth of each one of us, all by her/him/theirself, would be $6.4e17 in scientific notation, a number too immense to fit on any calculator screen. And then what? Money, the Almighty God of our time, would become utterly meaningless.
Seeing in One and All the Same: The Demon
I had thought
that I was done:
that I had filled myself
with my own just quota
of compassion
and was
at peace with all things
on this fair earth
Then, as I lounged one night
at ease
in my inmost chamber
a Demon slipped in
on the dark wind
and reared up
laughing
in foul mockery
at my fool’s dream
Quailing
I screamed at him
you cannot be!
What you are is Inhuman
Immoral and Wrong!
Satan, get thee gone!
But he was with me
and wretched
I curled inward
crying out for help
into the bleak dawn
Late in the day
I awoke
still in agony
the Beast within me
leering and jabbing
while I gasped for air
and I despaired
of ever being free
again
But at last
as I sat exhausted
with no way out
a touch came on my shoulder
and a voice
inhuman with kindness
softly said:
This is your own violence
toward your very Self
Let it go
And I saw that it was I
who was filling myself with fear
and in the calm new light
my voice came clear
and I called out
to the Lord of the Blessed Void
and of All Sweet Multiplicity
and begged for the only thing
I need:
To be filled
so full
with Compassion
for All Things, barring None,
that there will be no room
inside me
not a modicum
for violence
for judgment
or for fear
And then my demon kindly turned,
removed its mask
and gently took my hand.
Their Mercury Retrograde
Suddenly, long after I believed I had released them from my grasp, my tame adult children leapt out of hiding, roaring like a tornado through my tidy life, upsetting the crockery
One, unmasking himself, nearly gave me a heart attack as I watched him launch himself into the Void, tender, valiant and hard as steel, soaring away into perilous galaxies where no mere man has gone before
Another, in a wild freedom dance, flung Revelation all over my lovely period furniture, burning holes in the upholstery and liberating me from all the false hopes I had so proudly hung along the walls. Then they disappeared into the forest to learn from the wild animals.
And I all withered in a corner had to be reborn, a naked babe, and grow up all over again
Now at last the Change is over, like a natural disaster that lays bare the raw earth, opening its beating heart of diamonds and rubies and molten gold
Now at last, I get to loll in bed in the late morning, catching my breath and wondering what to do with this new, unruly treasure…
A Way
Here is one way
of the many true ways
to lose sadness
and find some peace:
Take yourself on a walk
in the open air
and call down for company
a luminous sphere
that you bring inside
to settle
like a light
in your heart
Then let it expand
all around you
most softly
growing past body
and thought
and deed
and everything else
you might have been
until you are happy
floating at ease
suspended in quiet,
in the home of kindness,
and patience and wonder,
sweetness and trust
and true dreams.
Then filled up with wellbeing
take yourself homeward
to your friends
and your dearest loves
and give them this gift:
Tell them what wonders
have found you this day
through the grace
of quiet release.
Animal Behavior
i sit on a cold rock by the river
under the empty gray sky
and suddenly up above me
crows are pouring in from some endless source
in the east
and disappearing behind me
and the air is still
until three geese splurge in in from the south
with irate and outlandish honks
that bring squadrons in over my head from the west, feet splayed
broad bottoms veering and adjusting
for the perfect river landing
while more swarm in from the northeast
splashing down
until everyone is present and accounted for At the proper moment
they greet one another
hi, how ya doin?
then they turn away
indifferent
some to look for snails in the mucky river bottom
others to stand in the shallows
staring straight ahead
listening for the next
emergency call
i walk home
and up above in the naked treetops
the crows
are holding on for dear life
awaiting the next signal
from the beyond
Antidote for Darkness - a poem and a story for the new year:
Song of Light
- For Selma Baraz and her son James
who brought light into the darkness
by reminding me that I am truly blessed
Blessed is the Light
Flower of life
that opens my heart with joy
from deep within
Generous is the Light
that does not scorn the shadows
though they scuttle before it
like discombobulated dreams
Friendly is the Light, and tranquil,
holding me like a child
and filling my soul with peace
Do not ask me to explain
Words are themselves
made of Light
and so cannot define their substance
but can only sing.
The story:
Not long ago, when I was sunk in suffering over something beyond my control, I remembered James Baraz’s 91-year-old mother Selma.
In the you tube video "Confessions of a Jewish Mother," she tells how her Buddhist son ruined her life. He got so sick of her complaints that he asked her to do something new. Every time she complained, she should just add these words: “but I am blessed.”
She complied, and to her horror – “It kills me to say this,” she lamented - she got happier.
Floundering in my doldrums, I thought maybe that's a good antidote. Negativity is really just complaining internally, so I'll just try repeating those words to myself whenever I have a negative thought…
I tried it, and she was right. It works! The problems were still there, of course, but those words let the light in, and the darkness is never quite so dark after that.
Blessing
Today
when I awake
all is well
no rush to do
or think for feel
anything at all
It is enough
to simply dwell
in the soft
and endless beat
of life within
and among us all.
This gentle radiance
pleases me
I know not why
But it is
as if some Friend
close by
were guiding me
with light touch
and shy regard
to find myself
alive and safe within -
not only inside me
but also inside you,
guiding you too
to find yourself
held deep
and safe and warm
in me.
Everything is sacred
Today
everything I touch
is sacred:
the smile
that wakes me,
the rain
spattering my window,
the rags of clouds
scuffing the hills,
the workers moving like bees
in their hive across the way
and the noise
of their machines,
the space inside me
that welcomes
sacredness,
and all the world
that fills it.
Morphology
In the center
of the boundless expanse
the form is conceived
a bud unfolds
swelling into fullness
around the embryo
comes the fullness of joy
and the emptiness of sorrow
and how sorrow deepens joy
like the night deepens day
awakening lifts us
out of sleep
and sleep gentles
vigil
and all things
height and depth
warmth and cold
have their place together
and apart
in grace
in perfect quiet
we contemplate from within
from the point
at the apex
of the mountain
the center of the sun
the depths of the sea
triangle
circle
parabola
sacred geometry
Nothing in the way
Every day when I wash my face
I erase more of what used to be me
Now, where there used to be eyebrows,
there are smudges
and where my jaw was
random folds
muddle the shape of my bones
And yet
I remember when my mother
her mind half lost
in the dustbin of her years
looked at me
as she pretended to help with the dishes
How she looked
with such blinding clarity
because there was nothing left
to mask the volcanic joy
that flew
from her eyes
And I knew
that all is not
as it seems.
Paradise everywhere
They say
anywhere can be paradise
if you open your eyes
So I do my best
to feel the human
in everyone
not only those I love
but also
in my enemies
too much
like me
I try to wrap my arms
warm
around every horror
I cannot change
from the
the nameless child
starving and vacant-eyed
in some
distant place
to the grandiloquence
of the doltish
puppet king
And I affirm
the hopeful truth
so contrary
to public opinion
that we are all doing
what we need to do
and learning
what we need to learn
so we’ll be ready
for the end of everything
when it opens
like a dark flower
before us
This way
I aspire
to love the world
like a child
instead of judging it
like an adult
because it’s love
and nothing more
that opens the door
to seeing
everywhere
eternity.
What Some Call “Prayer”
Here in these mere three
dimensions
it’s hard to see
the whole
of our totality
but I find
that things get
just a little clearer
when I do
what some call
to “pray”
I don’t mean
words
or a petition
addressed to someone
out there
somewhere
I mean an inward reaching
sweet and deep
a resting there
in the heart of things
an asking
and a letting be
You know what I mean
we all pray
every day
in our own way
even if it’s only a deep
inchoate
longing
for something
we cannot name
Everything we do
can be a prayer
We can pray
in gratitude and in agony,
in confusion and in clarity,
in rage,
in fear,
in wonder and delight
and in despair
We can pray happily
when we are sad
and without guilt
when we are guilty
So let us pray
because the world needs us to
and let us say:
May my wellbeing be
the wellbeing
of all humanity
and of all
and everything
on this whirling dervish earth
and in the infinite
unfurling worlds
May my wellbeing
be yours
yours mine
ours theirs
may we come together
past need for belief
in the full and simple knowing
that way down deep
we ourselves
are all there is
and are everything
we need.
A sunny day on the river
At ease I rest on the dock
that floats on this wide river
and feel the deep masses of water
moving imperceptibly under me
sun and wind fill all the air
with light
and clouds and sky dance upside down
in a melody of blue and white
light licks the gliding water
with its silken kiss
the breeze pets it backward
and it shivers
over the bridges
upstream and downstream
toy cars trickle and wink like beads
in the river’s hands
on the distant shore tiny people
glow in phosphorescent vests
that glitter yellow-green
as they dock their tiny boat
nearby three fat geese slide into home
and the water sprays and splashes
to their wild
apocalyptic cries
a brown man in a blue boat
glides silently by me
lifting and dipping his yellow oars
in the shimmering water
I sit and watch the world
turning and turning
in the kaleidoscope of time
that hangs suspended in a bell of silence
I sit still and fill
my bottomless soul
content with
my solitary self
the light
has no need for company
being full and bright
and happy all by itself
observing and being here
walking through the world
while the world walks through me
I am nothing
if not well pleased.
Sitting
Sitting -
Just sitting
In the embrace
Of these trees
Who live
In my back yard
Or better said
In whose Peace
I am privileged
To dwell
I am held
So perfectly
At one
With outside
And in
That I am loath
To move
To get on with
Things
With the habit-flow
Of time and tasks,
Worry
And discontent.
Here
In this cathedral
Outside of time
The perfect enchantment
Of trees
And birds
Sunlight
And the cool touch
Of morning
Have ended
My life.
Time for a break
Because I like to feel
the motion of my limbs
and the air and sunlight on my skin
and because you have to exercise
if you want to stay alive
I go walking
through the soft new snow
in the bright cold air
by the river.
I walk fast
all the way to the third bridge
and back again
But long before I reach my starting place
my body whispers,
“How about a break?”
What?! I remonstrate,
This is exercise,
and I trudge on
But then, passing a bench that’s not too wet,
I ask myself
Wait – why not stop?
After all, there’s a first time for everything
And my self answers
Yes, why not stop?
So, feeling wonderfully rebellious
I sink down
and just sit
and rest
And suddenly
the whole world blooms alive
and there’s no dividing line
between me
and everything
I think of Eckhart Tolle
sitting full of bliss
on park benches for two whole years
Well, I’m not Eckhart, but I do feel
something
sitting here
Why haven’t I done this before?
Is this why other people sit on benches
staring into space?
My body purrs with peacefulness
and I just sit
and watch the river shine and wrinkle
between two trees
that are content to just stand
and frame the river across the lawn
where a few geese are content
to just peruse the writings in the grass
I just sit
and people pass
each one taking some of me along
and leaving some of themselves behind
The sun glances down at me
through broken clouds
The world buzzes and hums with life
and I just sit
held safe in the hollow of time
like sunlight
in the hand of God.
Water Mystery
How can this sheer
shining flatness
be?
Too fragile seeming
to exist
not even
of an atom’s thickness
does it consist
yet its trembling fiction
holds the whole
divine geometry
of sky and sun
boats and wharf
arching bridges
and shifting clouds,
and hides below it
a whole distinct reality
of wet volumes moving
a changing
flowing
liquid history
as fickle and unlikely
as this fragile
point of view
that I call “me.”
Where death does not exist
o tiny self
just
do your homework,
master the only skill
there is:
learn
to stay present
right now
right here
without giving in
to gleaming hopes
and dire fears,
and,
when you inevitably
do get lost,
learn to find your way back
to this warm country
where death
does not exist
Where my Beloved Is
When I go inside me
You are there
ready to welcome and warm me
comfort and bless me
Vast and humble
all-named and nameless
ungraspable
you are my friend
who is closer to me
than my own breath
When I am lost
you show me the way
and when I am confused
you show me the pattern
of my footprints in the dust
You are not other than I
no wall or space divides us
and yet You are infinitely more
than this small being
who takes shelter
in Your Presence
Whenever and wherever I seek you
inside me, in the center of my heart
or outside
in the flowering tree
of the world,
always and everywhere
you are there
waiting for me
patiently.
Younglings
Younglings,
don’t worry
Old age brings
a spaciousness
that I would not trade
for all the prudent fears,
clever arguments
sleek physiques
and glittering futures
that used to fill
my life so full
I couldn’t see
the view