Medic
Your wings are cold, Mother. How will we live? There was no answer. A soft wind arose, moving her feathers. Another man fell. Brother! I’m here! . [ 1408 ]
Tag Archive for ‘War’
Movement and Grace
Even an old elephant, as big and heavy as it is, shows grace in its movement and step. Squirrels, tigers, bears — all touch the earth with the minimum force necessary, whether engaged in foraging, hunting, teaching, or play. And the wild creatures that live alongside us in cities and towns are unfazed by our sidewalks, parking lots, and streets. Unshod and unclothed, they’re like animated springs. The idea that […]
The Beauty Inside
And war, Master? Upon hearing these words, the old man smiled. Beside him was a bowl of nuts. He chose one and held it up. War, he said, is the breaking of the shell. Then, between mottled hands that were as strong as they were gentle, he cracked the nut and pried it open to reveal the beauty inside. He gave half to his pupil and put the other half […]
War
The plums in bloom. The ride through town. The news. The crows. The cemetery ground. . [ 1398 ]
Cracks in the Sidewalk
In light of our ancient, wild heritage, it’s interesting that we imprison ourselves in flat, stale, climate-controlled boxes filled with every convenience, where we grow sicker and weaker with each passing year. We’d be better off climbing on the counter than cleaning it, swinging from the chandelier, and chattering from atop the nightstand and dining table. Such precision. Such order. Such safety. Such security. Teams of professionals trimming our bushes […]
War and Peace
A playful squirrel chases juncos, just to see them hop and scatter. A bright-red robin flashes by, makes the squirrel jump and run. A missile flies, a mother dies, a child cries — another day is done. . [ 1392 ]
Street Song
Shorts, a T-shirt, and another run through the dark in the rain. Fifty-two degrees, a joy to move and breathe. And then there’s the news: the neighbor’s overflowing gutter, a streetlight out, a car with a for-sale sign, the sound of distant geese. Wet arms, wet face, wet hair, wet feet. Nations come and nations go. Rally ’round the flag — a mother’s grief, her bloody sheets, her once-bright tablecloth. […]
Someone Must
Being complacent is one thing. Being happy is another. Someone must be happy, lest we all forget. Someone must be joyful, someone must laugh. Yes, someone must, someone must. Because not being happy is a crime as great as any war. Or why bring more children into the world? . [ 1388 ]
A Verb and a Noun
The gentle are strong, the wise are gentle. The violent are frightened and weak. Kingdoms are brief. Hate is belief. Love is a verb and a noun. . [ 1387 ]
A Flower for Marian
Today is the birthday of my father’s little sister, Marian. It is also the anniversary of my grandfather’s death in 1990 and the day the ancient orthodox Armenian Church observes Christmas — except in Jerusalem, where the Brotherhood at the Monastery of St. James follows an older calendar and Christmas falls on a later date. In the dimly lit, incense-laden sanctuary of St. James itself, there is a nook where […]
William Michaelian 