A Simple Rhyme for Grown Children
You have been kind. I have been blind. And you have been blind. And I have been kind. Kindness and blindness bind us. Let’s keep that in mind, And find love. . [ 1258 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Love’
Treble and Bass
Shall I spend what remains of my precious time merely agreeing or disagreeing with everyone I meet and with every piece of information that comes my way? Would this not keep me in a state of perpetual opinion, sure I am right, and therefore willfully blind? Or shall I work to remain open, and tremble and sway with life as it passes through me and around me, like the trees? […]
Learning to Walk
Old friends, old souls — who else would care for these pages? In today’s mail I received a fall shoe catalog. It made me wonder: when was the last time I wore socks or shoes? I wish I had noted the date. A fair guess, though, would be somewhere in the neighborhood of four months. In that time my feet, ankles, and legs have gained a tremendous amount of strength. […]
You Will Forgive Me
Maybe I have changed. Clearing the downspouts of birch leaves in a light rain at fifty-three degrees while wearing shorts and short sleeves and being barefoot is something I have never done before. That I felt warm and completely comfortable while doing it is, I think, as good a sign as the early fall rain, which is drenching everything in fine winter style. Fifty-three, of course, is not cold. The […]
Shall I Tell You?
Being right is such a small, fleeting thing. I would rather be loved, Or unnoticed, than looked up to, respected, and feared. It rained through the night — Shall I tell you about my wet feet? — about her smile when I came in from the yard? September 19, 2021 . [ 1233 ]
A Way of Life
Imagine a race of beings so in love with themselves, so jaded, so steeped in their bitterness, that they choose daily to revel in their own righteous filth. Impossible, of course. Yellowed cottonwood leaves on the trail. The trees shudder to think. Gray skies all day without a hint of blue, the smoke pushed east again for a time. Broken green husks of walnuts on the steps. Squirrels, or birds? […]
And What Does the Day Sing?
From the beginning, one by one, these pages proclaim, We are karma. Before dawn, a sliver moon, the rest of its shadow clearly visible. This morning’s sunflower visitors: chickadees, nuthatches, scrub jays, squirrels — all talkative, reveling in what they have found, telling all the world. Thrice exalted: first by your kind presence; then by my short fast; and finally in answering the call of my hunger. September 5, 2021 […]
A Word Is All I Ask
you pause and listen as my pen strikes out each and every line until it comes to the place where your face says love Recently Banned Literature, September 11, 2015 . [ 1208 ]
Your Letter
Yes, why not just love each other, and leave meaning for another life? August 9 2021 . Your Letter At last, your letter has arrived — in the form of a butterfly. Isn’t that just like you? And now, everywhere I go, I hear children say, “Look — that man is whispering in color.” Poems, Slightly Used, November 1, 2008 . [ 1192 ]
Proverb
A very warm afternoon, outside and in. It seems logical, natural, inevitable, that, as I age, I am moving steadily, inexorably, towards silence. The season holds sway, but the conclusion is the same any time of year. Towards word silence; journal silence; poem silence; grave silence. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust; silence to silence. Emerged from silence, proceeding unto silence; never having left silence, forever part of silence. Loving […]
William Michaelian 