Morning Call
When it’s time to rest, let your sleep be death. And if you wake, let surprise be your infinite gratitude. November 4, 2021 . [ 1278 ]
Mendicant
Please slow down. I am overwhelmed. It is you I love. My bowl is full. How can I pick and choose and scroll? Instead, give me what I truly care to know: your profound silence while the sun is still bright upon your face and your shadow is behind you. . [ 1277 ]
Resting on the Rim
Insects, resting on the rim of a wide blue flowerpot; a bird, eating them one by one; each is acting according to its need, until the need is no more. No greed, no poverty, no depleted resources; no waste, no alleys lined with overflowing garbage cans. Good fortune: in times of plenty, all are filled; when times are lean, all are lean. Gratitude: to be here now, in joy and […]
Your Breath, My Hand
A deep breath / and then / the word is a bell / you invite to sound November 2, 2021 . Your Breath, My Hand You begin slowly, speaking softly, saying, One word at a time, gently we go, with love, just as if you are a cushion of fresh green moss on a wall, beyond which bare fields sleep until spring. And then someone happens along and replies: I, […]
Life, Death, Fall
This morning I finished Edward O. Wilson’s Naturalist. After lunch I read in Emerson’s journal about the death of his little boy, Waldo. Two months ago, I ordered Library of America’s forthcoming two-volume edition, Molière: The Complete Richard Wilbur Translations. Today I removed the plants from the pots, barrels, and planters behind the house. I also cleared the gutters, which were full to the brim with birch leaves and fir […]
West to Goose Lake
We are made for this. We are made from this. We are this. West to Goose Lake October 28, 2021 . [ 1273 ]
Writing Lesson
A few light strokes / on skin / you first / thought / was paper October 28, 2021 . [ 1272 ]
Places
Snow in the churchyard and you giving your old black coat to a stranger frozen and still its weight on his shoulders known only to him his wings showing through his joy again Recently Banned Literature, December 26, 2013 . [ 1271 ]
The Gift Was a Word
I don’t remember the year. But I was quite small. The gift was a word. I’m unwrapping it still. Recently Banned Literature, December 25, 2013 . [ 1270 ]
William Michaelian 
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