William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Journals’

A Small Boy and Others

The language of Henry James in A Small Boy and Others is a softly spoken dream that gently begs the use of the reader’s own tongue. The dream is in color; it has no corners or edges or sides; it is more like the distance one travels between a robin’s breast and a fully ripe strawberry — the kind of journey a child makes many times each day — even […]

Continue Reading →

Loaves, Poems, and Rose Petals

The grapes are just beginning to bloom. The canes on one side have climbed to the roof. On the other, they have found inspiration and support in the apricot tree. And the apricot, in her grace and charm, returns blush for blush. Nationalism, patriotism, and pride are coins — certainty on one side, violence on the other. May humans someday learn to pay their way with loaves, poems, and rose […]

Continue Reading →

Just Enough Blue

Clouds moving in different directions, the upper layer in wisps from the southwest; fluffs of cotton beneath them, drifting from north to south — and if I were a cloud, the breeze here at ground level would carry me ever so gently from west to east. Somehow — and this is another miracle — there is just enough blue sky to hold this all together. The clouds move, but they […]

Continue Reading →

When We Most Need Them

I once read a fairy tale, in which the villain was a terrible monster. Years later, I looked in the mirror. Then I read the fairy tale again. How beautiful, I said. June 3, 2020   When We Most Need Them We all know of ignorant, arrogant, obnoxious, destructive people. But it’s imperative we don’t pollute ourselves with negative thoughts about them — that we say, rather, “This is the […]

Continue Reading →

Tender Recycling

The towhees nesting under the big rhododendron, in the shade of the birches and firs, have added two fine young offspring to the world. We saw them for the first time late yesterday evening, hopping along the edge of the ivy in what might have been their first foraging lesson. Drab-fluffy and rough-feathery, they were almost as big as their parents. Our human social fabric has so many rips and […]

Continue Reading →

Billions

There are billions of us, and billions who have gone before — yet of all these billions, somehow, you are the one who knows. Oh, it must be quite the burden for you! Just look at your flags and guns! And look at the cemeteries, full of your fellow gods! June 1, 2020 [ 765 ]

Continue Reading →

Breathless

Summer one day, spring the next. The sky wondering which clothes to wear. Gray, blue, none but the pollen in her hair. on an old clay pot a bee waits just long enough for me to catch up May 30, 2020 [ 764 ]

Continue Reading →

Valley Days

From the tips of its branches to the deepest, outermost extent of its roots, the cedar that planted itself within a few feet of our front window is as wild as a tree growing in an inaccessible canyon. This is something the sky knows and is always eager to tell. Nor is this truth questioned by squirrels, birds, insects, and worms, all of which are wild and wise in their […]

Continue Reading →

Letters

Late each evening, the male towhee comes out from the rhododendron for one last look at the world and a little something to eat before bed. He is done singing for the day, and still mindful of the nest. Under the lilac, he finds something that intrigues him in the moss, and starts scratching like a chicken. The motion propels him forward several inches, then he hops back and pecks […]

Continue Reading →

These Eyes

The Man Who Lost His Head

Reckoning from the year 1776, this country is two hundred and forty-four years old. I have lived sixty-four of those years, roughly a quarter of that span. Reading the relatively brief history of this land, how can I not be stunned and saddened by the magnitude of the slaughter, theft, exploitation, and waste that marks each stage of its development? Certainly I am not surprised to find the country as […]

Continue Reading →