Monday, November 11, 2013


When morning arrives in shafts of light,
dimensions and intentions arrive as well.
From dream to dream we dream our path.
I feel like a veteran today;
a day to remember survival.
We do, all of us here, survive.
Snail Mail, an old fashion, revived.
Has it simply survived obsolescence;
wave length snaking onward silently?
We "get by with a little help from friends"
Most of us, some hobbled by time, try
with a little help from our friends!
{I call her "Cora".  Last night we danced with two hundred folks}
Sometimes, the wheel spins in one direction,
then spins counter-clock-wise for a little while.
Eventually, movement becomes still, stops.
{Straight rainbow fabric pen on embroidered piece}

Sometimes, there's a sudden need of color:
paint a table top, or cane bright yellow.
Cut the band off a torn hat.  Change buttons
{from black to off white, sewn with red and silver thread}
Sometimes, a sudden need of order prevails,
pushing some ancient rock-gathering memory
into hours of sorting a small button collection.
Sometimes, 'fight or flight' kicks in hard,
the reptilian brain craves immediate escape.
Television was invented just for these times.
 {"Empire of The Sun" by Bertolucci.  It's Chinese cultural history in magnificent images, with more than adequate text, and characters.  The story tellers art lives}
{A  Dalai Llama gives a cricket to a boy of three, the same age he was when it was given to him}
Past and future meet in every moment.

1 comment:

grace Forrest~Maestas said...

it's all really
isn't it.