A falling star — a petal bright, from the flower. * Some books I leave open, so that during daylight hours, I can read a few lines from them in passing. Diaries, journals, letters, poetry, too — and it’s all poetry, beginning with the light coming in through the window. Or call it pollen, or honey, because the words coat the wings, and sweeten the tongue. * How many things […]
Let’s speak and act in such a way that kindness is the inevitable response. * Instead of telling a child that a certain bright light in the sky is the moon, ask her what it is. Whatever she says will be true. * When you press the Publish button, do so as if you’ve just run all the way from your village to mine and arrived breathless and eager to […]
The storm’s over, the sun’s returned, and you’re the last snowflake to fall. When you land, the other snowflakes are already melting. And you think, In another life, I might have been rain. * Your eyes, looking back at you in wonder from the still water of a shimmering pond, and you, not noticing, as you comb your hair in front of the mirror. * I, me, mine — we […]
Children of the Precipice, it’s time for authenticity, not pose. * To heal a part, you must love the whole. * As a participant in this beautiful immensity, I don’t feel insignificant, I feel fortunate. With each breath, I’m as near as the apple and worm, and as far as the most distant star. We’re intimately related and uniformly blessed, part of the same miracle. . [ 1661 ]
Concord — harmony; a grape; a town; Emerson; Thoreau; all that’s forgotten, but not unknown. * Negativity: the great pandemic. Yet the cure is instantaneous, and starts with yourself. * How strange, being a member of a species smart enough to kill itself. And here is our mother, gently whispering over us, Live, and we think her voice is only the sound of the waves, the wind in the trees. […]
If ours isn’t a true friendship, maybe it’s because we aren’t really listening to each other. * From Emerson’s journal, 1869: In the heavy storm I heard the cathedral bells squeaking like pigs through the snout. * Time and energy given to hurt feelings is time and energy taken from feeling compassion for the person you think has hurt them — the result being, there are two feeling hurt instead […]
We sat in rows in classrooms. We laughed and squirmed and raised our hands. Pretty girls, awkward boys. Pretty boys, boyish girls. Dervish whirls and eyes. Teacher, teacher, tell us true. You have seen us, bright and blue. We were meek and we were wise. You taught us, and we taught you. Some were lies, some were true. Teacher, teacher. Teacher, teacher, teacher. * I don’t resolve, but I do […]
My life is a slow sentence — written in faith and served with relish. . [ 1657 ]
When the fig leaves fell, they were bright and deep beneath the tree. Now their color has seeped into the ground, and the grass is growing up through me. It’s a fine time. A rhyme time. A time like every other time I see. No time. Flow time. Rain time. Snow time. Free. . [ 1656 ]
Everyone is clever. Everyone’s in sales. Oh, how the wind blows — then the light fails, And reason pales to dark walls, Night calls, wood, nails. . [ 1655 ]
William Michaelian 