Layer upon layer: remove a thought, or even a word, and the image comes tumbling down. That’s one way of looking at it. Fearful symmetry: that’s another, the youthful tyger burning bright. Or, space in a face: the gladsome light of extinguished stars. Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the lamb make thee? ’Tis all a mystery. ~ [ 2023 ]
Taken literally, each word of the short poem that is Long Train is a sturdy, useful brick; and so I might say, if there is something you hope to build, it always pays to begin with good materials. Such materials are most readily found in nature, but there are times and places where the harsh, rough emblems of the city are just as useful, and even beautiful. I have employed […]
Stars and low-racing clouds. A spirit at the switch, grinning fall. My eldest brother is alive again. He’s forgotten to bring his driver’s license. Standing beside our mother’s old car, I tell him I’d better drive, though we have no particular destination in mind. With the arrival of rain and cooler temperatures, I’m reminded that the easiest way to adjust to seasonal weather changes is to spend as much time […]
Will I have any thoughts today that are original or worth remembering? Will I have any that are even necessary? Familiar chatter, recycled debris, replay of memory. Discussions on social media — there are those rare and beautiful times when they take on the spirit of an enlightened classroom, where everyone is teacher and everyone is student, and all questions and answers are respected and encouraged — rare, too, in […]
How pleasantly strange, once again, to find myself running through the neighborhood at four in the morning, while no one else is out and about. And on this new day, what is the first thought I remember? How few thoughts. The others, before and after, have drifted into space. Maybe they’ll find a home out there. Maybe that is their home, except out there is also in here — this […]
Silence isn’t “one of those things.” It’s always present, and it never ends. What ends is our attention. Fortunately, silence is always there when we return. I wouldn’t say it’s waiting, but, then again, who knows, it might be. We can say all sorts of things about silence. We can say it pours like honey, Or that it melts like chocolate. We might liken it to the depths of the […]
What we think we’ve lost, we never had at all. What we think we have, we never really can or will. What we think is what we think we think, until . . . . [ 1763 ]
The less I think, the better I feel — physically, mentally, every which way. Once I recognized the connection between what goes on in my head and my general well being, the thinking process grew quiet, and the intervals between thoughts became greater. Sometimes, I hardly think at all, and wouldn’t notice it, except that when I finally do think, it’s like waking from a vivid dream. I don’t mean […]
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 ]
I try to live simply, without wasted thought, movement, or breath — not as a matter of laziness, but of calm, peaceful efficiency. Whatever it is, I know that if I can’t do it slowly and gracefully, I’ll never be able to do it quickly and effectively. Similarly, if I can’t say something softly, I’d be a fool to shout it from a mountaintop. I also try to write this […]
William Michaelian 