William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Daybook

Your Choice

Negativity is a poison as dangerous and addictive as any drug. It darkens our outlook and skews our view of the world. Given time, it ruins our health, our digestion, our facial expression, our posture, and our body language, and has a profound affect on those around us. Negativity breeds more negativity. It chases away positive people and attracts others who are negative. There’s no such thing as a positive […]

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The Universal Flow

Deep in our ancient programming, we know how to be healthy and whole. But we believe in so much nonsense that we undermine ourselves, and are taken in by the ones sending the bill. Life wants us to be well — not just in mind and body, but in a universal way that intimately involves everything seen and unseen, every grain of sand, every drop of rain, every molecule and […]

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Thee and Me

Now, with so much joy in one dandelion, imagine the collective power of every blade of grass, every tree, every drop of rain, and the sky full of stars. Then imagine the joy in thee and me. To say it another way, the only thing that can come between ourselves and the universe, and everything near and beyond, is the hardened assumption that we are superior or inferior, right or […]

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White Shoes, Yellow Shawls

Early April, and we’re still flirting with snow. A couple of days ago, we had two brief hailstorms, the latter of which turned the ground white and bowed some daffodils to the ground, while others, in their white shoes and yellow shawls, stood tall and seemed ready to march up the hill. How strange that would have been. But they stayed where they were, encouraging the others to stand. . […]

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A Friendly Owl

A few nights ago, after we’d been on our walk by the river, I had a strange little dream. A few feet away, in a small grassy area greening its way into spring, there was a blue-gray owl looking up at me with a friendly, cheerful expression. It had very large bright-green eyes. Though it was obviously an adult, it was smaller than any owl I’ve seen. When I moved […]

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The Crooked Streets and Fields

Jewels shimmer and fall from every needle and twig. The sky grows dark again with rain and wind. In this old house of mine, a wayward thought sends waves through every cell. It’s a pebble in a pond only calm can heal. Bright blue. Sunlight warms the crooked streets and fields. . [ 1707 ]

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Art and Expression

It seems a shame to impose myself on a clean white page. It’s like being the first to leave tracks in newly fallen snow, or where someone has carefully raked a shaded path — unforgivable acts, though unavoidable, perhaps. And what of the garden space beside the driveway? If I’m still alive when the weather warms at last, shall I fill it again with seeds and plants, or let nature […]

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In This Wise

Today is not a day for writing. Early this morning, I ran to the fig tree and back. Later, we took a long walk by the river, where, high in two leafless cottonwood trees just starting to bud, we saw big, rugged osprey nests. After lunch, I raked the mossy front sidewalk, careful not to dislodge the shepherd’s purse that has sprouted there. Then we walked through the neighborhood, talking […]

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When We Meet

It’s indicative of character, I think, that beyond my immediate family, my dearest, closest friends are people I’m unlikely ever to meet in the flesh, and who live hundreds or thousands of miles away. It’s also indicative of the times, for without social media, email, and online publishing, chances are great that our paths would never have crossed. As it is, the number is still small. I have many acquaintances, […]

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