The birdbaths have thawed, and are reflecting the surrounding trees and blue sky overhead. From time to time, visitors arrive to dance on their rims and partake of their rippling waters. In between, they chase each other through the brambles and still-to-be-recycled piles of storm debris, which no doubt isn’t debris to them, but just one more temporary, inevitable consequence of being awake and alive. Without the piles, they carry […]
Shall we examine our illnesses, and give them truer, more meaningful names, such as The North Wind, The Reminder, and The Teacher? Then we might say, I am visited by The North Wind, or, I am thankful for The Reminder. We might say, I learned great things from The Teacher. I have The Mystery. I do not fear The End. We Might Say. December 29, 2021. Poems, Notes, and Drawings. […]
We broke the ice in the birdbaths and filled them with fresh water. The first drink was taken by a squirrel. Then a pair of juncos descended from the bare birches. They hopped around the rim, stopping for very quick small sips — stopping without stopping, you might say. More sun, more cold, not a drop of rain. The dry air inside makes the sinuses ache. My blood pressure was […]
Life’s too precious to spend it in the dread cycle of acquisition and protecting what we own. Still, our societies are based on this, and our nations set to war. The misunderstanding is simple: we’re not what we own. Nothing can be added, and nothing taken away, from a universal song. Yesterday Afternoon Laughing in the dentist’s chair The doctor and his assistant singing His wife reads vampire novels […]
What a strange feeling — this morning it’s cold enough for socks. And for those shivering outside in moldy, lice-infested bundles, and for those who hunger, and for those who are beaten and killed and spirited away from the streets against all laws of decency and man, may we cease to pretend, may we treat one another with kindness, and may we finally awaken. ~ [ 2055 ]
Another bright, sunny afternoon. The south-facing side of the house is flooded with light; the north-facing side, which is where I am, is quite dim — dim enough that I’ve already turned on my little stained glass dragonfly lamp, which is situated about six inches to the left of the laptop computer I use here on the desk. This morning was agreeably spent cleaning the house. This afternoon, we took […]
A clear, chilly morning of thirty degrees. Out under the stars, I ran for the forty-second consecutive day, making six weeks of barefoot sandal running. I saw no one, and was met by only one car, which was driven by one of this country’s many thousands of “independent contractors” delivering packages. I’m about halfway through Melville’s Typee, the narrator of which has come to question who is truly civilized — […]
warm winter sun robins and bluebells man and his shadow looking down ~ [ 2052 ]
What can I do? I can be kind. I can listen. This is the most valuable, abiding contribution I can make in this world. It might also be the last thing I’m able to do, because my life is made to go out in an instant. What a sad thing it would be if that moment came in the midst of selfishness, impatience, anger, or the tired, desperate feeling that […]
It’s much less what I’m reading, than the simple fact that I am reading, that I find remarkable. More than remarkable: holding a book in my hands, turning the pages, and making sense of what’s printed on those pages, is a miracle. How the books I read find their way to me, and come to a temporarily safe harbor within these walls, is a mystery. Though it appears that I’m […]
William Michaelian 