William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

I Can’t Tell You

Eating only what I need is joy, not punishment. It takes no discipline at all. Having what I need is a miracle.

I still run early every morning. The atmosphere these days is heavily scented with the blossoms of trees and grasses. I love the quiet and dark.

I walk in the afternoon. I love the light. Two or three days ago, I saw Bruce. Bruce has a dog named Ella. They do a lot of walking together. Bruce was raking up some old leaves near the sidewalk in front of his house. I guess he decided they had been there long enough. He had some nice dandelions, which we agreed were good for the bees.

Sometimes I walk in the morning too. I walk in my thin sandals. I usually end my walks by walking the last few minutes on my bare feet. I walk in the middle of the road. Once in a while I step on a piece of loose gravel. Now that my feet know what gravel is, they don’t mind it much at all. The bottoms of my feet aren’t tough or hard. They are smooth and soft.

With every sentence I write, I ask myself: Is this true? If the answer isn’t Yes, as far as I know, I strike those words.

Living is a funny sort of project. It’s full of surprises and seems new every day. Every day is a surprise.

I can’t tell you how to live. Indeed, why would I want to? Why would you want me to? The world is full of people telling each other how to live. The teller and the told — it doesn’t make them very happy, does it?

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Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

3 replies

  1. You’ve nailed it again. This is beautiful and wise

    Liked by 1 person

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