Life’s too precious to spend it in the dread cycle of acquisition and protecting what we own. Still, our societies are based on this, and our nations set to war. The misunderstanding is simple: we’re not what we own. Nothing can be added, and nothing taken away, from a universal song. Yesterday Afternoon Laughing in the dentist’s chair The doctor and his assistant singing His wife reads vampire novels […]
I didn’t turn on the computer this morning until seven-thirty, after I’d been up for three and a half hours. I exercised, I ran, I sipped my six-ounce cup of pour-over coffee; I ate breakfast; I sat, not thinking or doing anything at all. I took a shower, dried myself, and rubbed some olive oil on my heels. Only then, after making a cup of chamomile tea, did I open […]
The primitive human in me doesn’t want to be sitting here at a keyboard. It wants to be gathering wood or picking berries. If I must tell stories, let it be near a fire, sung as a poem, or pounded out on a drum. . In life as in the library — may the sweetest, ripest fruit always be just out of reach. . A cloudy morning for the eclipse. […]
There’s nothing like exercise married to a needful purpose — Carrying water, chopping wood, pruning a vineyard, digging a grave, Building a house, hanging clothes on the line, painting a mural, Running to the next village with an important message — I could go on — but not as far as writing a poem. What about singing one? I don’t know. I wonder. Yes, yes — perhaps. . [ 1846 […]
A brisk walk this morning instead of a slow run. Farther, faster. How interesting. How odd. And then there were the robins, singing in the dark. One was on the sidewalk, absorbed in his song. As I went around him, he didn’t stop once. He seemed helpless, almost. Imagine that much music in your throat. . [ 1743 ]
While out running yesterday morning before dawn, and then again an hour or so later while doing some bending, stretching, and breathing exercises, I thought about what I was really doing. I was, in some small degree, lessening the distance between the life I’m living and the life I would have lived as a primitive, wandering, foraging human whose activities were devoted almost entirely to survival, a life in which […]
The song in his heart was stuck in his throat. And the attending doctor said to himself, I must be sure not to die this way. . [ 1672 ]
This thing you call effort, sings the stream — why do you still cling to it so? . [ 1589 ]
shovel deep / shovel strong / I love your forever song . [ 1584 ]
The morning began with a robin leading the way, From birch, to maple, to fig, invisible to me, singing, My favorite tree! My favorite tree! My favorite tree! Or so it seemed as I ran in the calm and misty dark, So it seemed, so it seemed, so it seemed, Each of us a playful happening, Like every leaf and star. . [ 1450 ]
William Michaelian 