Good Music
There’s an art to losing your way: never lose it just to say you forgot to live, or give, today; and don’t confuse it, pray, with child’s play; let it be good music when you’re old and gray. . [ 1756 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Aging’
A Tale of Two Sittings
He had a funny chair, and that was all he knew, that when he sat in it, his feet turned slowly blue, and his brain, for want of oxygen, could not undo his grim despair — it was strange, but it was true, that he grew old and mad in it, until, at last, he never moved from there. . [ 1755 ]
A Splash and a Wish
No one taught my father to swim. He jumped into the ditch and started paddling. A depression, a lifetime, a war, a family later, he climbed out of the water and waved from the bank on the other side. He waved and he waved, and faded to shade, in the flesh with the fish, a splash and a wish, a breeze, the sky, a door. And then we couldn’t see […]
A Magnificent Beard
Yes, I’m in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in, but I’m also banged up around the edges. For instance, no one would look at me and think I’m younger than my age. They’d likely think I’m older. Be that as it may, I’m often greeted as if it’s understood I have a sense of humor. And just the other day, the tow truck driver who came to rescue […]
Moss
Moss on the ground, moss on the shrubs, moss on the trees. Moss on the sidewalks, moss in the street. I dare not stop. I dare not sleep. Moss on my feet. . [ 1742 ]
The Garden and the Poem
I’ve lived long enough to know that whatever I try to do is weakened by the effort. Whatever I try to say, is rendered less clear. I’ve learned that even before I begin, the doing and saying is already being done for me, and that by keeping breath in this body, life is allowing me to take part in a process as playful as it is timeless and profound. Life […]
On the Way Home
Spring at last — the old man was a child all along. I spent most of yesterday writing that line. It isn’t much, I know, but I also walked, ran, and talked to a retired neighbor, who’s one of the friendliest, most positive people I’ve ever met. He also walks and runs. He rides a bicycle, too, and is looking forward to sunny days ahead. On the way home, I […]
Everything Everywhere
One day, at a very early age, I reached the conclusion that I would live forever. I remember saying to myself on that occasion, in all simple certainty, I cannot die. It was a revelation, not a plea, one which arose not from long deliberation or fear, but from the earth itself, and seemed to emanate from the palm of my upheld hand. This startling new truth was borne out […]
Upon Waking
It isn’t a matter of using the day, but of finding a way to express one’s gratitude. Or it might be a matter of finding one’s gratitude and expressing the way. * Junco bathing in a puddle — sunlight-celebration. * Death is the poet’s last poem. Life is the page it’s written on. * The body ages like a star. The mind is its light, seen from afar. * Joy […]
Slow Sentence
My life is a slow sentence — written in faith and served with relish. . [ 1657 ]
William Michaelian 