A very humid atmosphere, heavy with mold. Stand still long enough and mushrooms will sprout on your arms. Yes, those are your arms, the ones you keep covered far too much of the time for fear of just such an outcome. Embarrassing, you say, to walk through the grocery store with mushrooms on your arms. And I say, balderdash, let them erupt, and see if they’re not admired by the […]
Writing is one more way of living forever, like digging in the garden, making bread, and bathing a child. It’s a city lot, but if I walk the same narrow path through the yard to its every corner each and every day, my footsteps will form a scenic nature trail. Out, back, and around, in every direction and through all the seasons — who knows what I might see? We […]
It’s not that nature answers all questions and problems, though it seems she does. It’s that she disposes of those not really worth asking or solving, and returns us, at least for a time, to a state of harmony with our most basic needs, and an understanding of how we’re connected to each other and all things. If you live in a city, even a single flower or plant near […]
You’re not only an expression of the whole, you are the whole dragonfly on a warm, dry leaf . [ 1796 ]
Here are the flowers. Where are the bees? Here are the trees. Where are the leaves? Here are the people. Smoke on the breeze. . [ 1783 ]
The two little girls were surprised when I gave them each a sprig of lilac and asked them to smell the flowers. They were hushed, too, because in their boredom they’d torn them off, along with others and many tender leaves. And they were saddened, when I gently told them we’d given the plant to my mother many years ago, that it was her favorite, and that though she had […]
Blue sky? Warmth? Is it possible? What a strange dream. Moss is growing on the dahlia bed. The maples are an odd sort of green. Can those be leaves? Pinch yourself. Yes, those are nests in the trees. Look again. The last of your thoughts are blowing to sea. There they go. Back to the ether. No need for me. . [ 1729 ]
Concord — harmony; a grape; a town; Emerson; Thoreau; all that’s forgotten, but not unknown. * Negativity: the great pandemic. Yet the cure is instantaneous, and starts with yourself. * How strange, being a member of a species smart enough to kill itself. And here is our mother, gently whispering over us, Live, and we think her voice is only the sound of the waves, the wind in the trees. […]
When the fig leaves fell, they were bright and deep beneath the tree. Now their color has seeped into the ground, and the grass is growing up through me. It’s a fine time. A rhyme time. A time like every other time I see. No time. Flow time. Rain time. Snow time. Free. . [ 1656 ]
Leaves crisp where they’ve fallen, grass growing through. Winter’s a love story. We are too. . [ 1643 ]
William Michaelian 