William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Skunk Detail

When I turned on the front step light at 4:30 this morning, the skunk seemed only mildly surprised. It wasn’t on the step, just a few feet beyond. It sniffed the air and peered at me through its thick glasses, then moved off into the darkness, toward the pine. Careful alert regard, mutual curiosity — I’ve known friendships to begin this way. Another way is the wondrous miracle of instant […]

Continue Reading →

Enough Revolution for One Day

Two glasses of water, a pause online to say hello, then a nice brisk run in the dark. A tiny bit of coffee — it seems, of late, I’ve lost my taste for it. Three or four sips is enough. It may be, after all these years, the body and mind have decided to move on. A half-cup of quinoa cooked and cooling for this week’s salad. Before I complain […]

Continue Reading →

A Poetry of Unwritten Laws

If I see life as something imperfect in its design, I guarantee my own unhappiness. If I embrace it as it is, on its own terms, I become a participant in its mystery and wonder. As judge and jury, I will never be able to set things right. The thought that I might make improvements to an arrangement so grand that it effortlessly, even casually, includes an inexhaustible number of […]

Continue Reading →

High Low Bee

We met a wee toddler with his parents on the canyon trail this morning. This afternoon, I saw the junco father with his recently hatched little ones. They were finding things to eat in the shade garden. The father flew up to the pine, landed on a branch just above me, and ticked a bit — it was just like old times. honey high on the mountain low in the […]

Continue Reading →

Repetition

Late yesterday evening, I was taking a barefoot stroll through the clover in front of the house when I saw, about ten feet away, a fine healthy skunk in the shade garden, quietly sniffing amongst the ferns. It had two white stripes. It seemed not to notice me. And in that instant I didn’t notice myself. That came immediately after, when I softly turned away and left it alone. There […]

Continue Reading →

Juniper Tales

Yesterday I saw a hummingbird visit a small spider that had made its web in the juniper, about fifteen feet above the ground. Twice it appeared to touch the spider with its long beak, and each time it did so, the spider held perfectly still. Then, when the hummingbird zipped away, the spider moved to the tip of the nearest branch. It’s hard to know exactly what happened. The hummingbird […]

Continue Reading →

From Jade to Fern

Star detail. Northbound clouds, lit by a sun an hour from rising. Clover detail. Leaves cool, and only slightly damp. Spider detail. A web from jade to fern. Breath detail. The boundless, timeless happening of oneself. Zen detail. Unique, like everything and everyone else. The same, in a different way. Inseparable as peace and the gentle eyes of a cow, as joy and the sound of her bell. July 30, […]

Continue Reading →