Thirty-seven degrees. A snow sky. Vegetable plants in the garden shops. The heart leaps, a bird peeps, returns to its fir needle bed. I wish I had written that. And the life that led to it? Do you wish you had lived that as well? A fondness for quoting Jesus — but crucifixion is something else. A crown of thorns. Nails through the palms. Snow in April? Isn’t that unusual? […]
Little bird, puffed at the breast, the first love, the last love — this love — is best. . [ 1395 ]
No philosophy or religion — only the wish to see how light I can be — like these little birds who eat only what they need — and keep moving . [ 1374 ]
Yesterday morning while I was watching the birds finding things to eat on the frosty ground, I was struck again at how crippled by convenience I am, in the sense that, for much of the year, I am cut off from the activity of getting food. The time spent in direct contact with the earth, the energy used, and the attention and involvement required in an endeavor that yields varying […]
There were high winds and heavy rain throughout the night. Now that it’s light, I see several more fir branches are down. Most are about six to eight feet in length; the longest, with its thick end leaning against the fig tree, is about twelve feet, and two inches in diameter. And so nature’s cleanup of last year’s ice storm continues. Later I’ll go out and have a look at […]
I raked some leaves that didn’t need raking, Just to feel my muscles and lungs. I walked some ground that didn’t need walking, To see how the sky would respond. I watched some birds that didn’t need watching, I ate an orange that didn’t need eating, I thought a thought that didn’t need thinking, And the thought thought the same about me. Then I sat, then I stood, then I […]
The world owes me nothing. It gives me everything. I can claim that I have what I have through my own effort, but it simply isn’t so. I have what I have because life is in me and I am in life. I have awareness and breath. I need nothing else. And when they leave this body, they will take that need with them. The sudden arrival of about a […]
The birds are out, the robins in pairs, their colors intense. They are like little day-lanterns that help me see the light. And now it is night, and the wind is high in the meadow. And the wind is why my body is a hut the trees know. Recently Banned Literature, December 19, 2017 . [ 1287 ]
drop by drop on fallen leaves / music comes to a poem November 11, 2021 . Your Bird on Her Limb in the Rain Remember, when you describe something, you are really describing yourself. So be vivid. Describe well. The more clearly I see your bird on her limb in the rain, the more I will rejoice in your glorious spring. Recently Banned Literature, February 23, 2017 . [ 1285 […]
Early this morning, near the end of sleep, I came upon a tiny yellow bird. He was bright, cheerful, and no bigger than a thimble, a plump fellow resting on a rocky ledge. He was not afraid. A few inches away was another bird I might describe as his shadow, the same size and every bit as friendly and alive, dressed in soft reddish-brown colors. For a time after I […]
William Michaelian 