Time Changes Nothing by Arthur Goshin

Table of Contents

Time Changes Nothing Arthur Robert Goshin

Table of Contents

One Hundred and Twenty Four Moons Longing Before Dawn Love’s Cloth Both The Harvest And The Seed

Table of Contents One Time Changes Nothing...............................................................2 The Telling...................................................................................3 The Past Never Forgets...............................................................4 The Unseen..................................................................................5 Childhood Is Forever...................................................................6 The Heart Knows.........................................................................7 What Kind Of Poem?..................................................................8 Regret...........................................................................................9 The Dead Never Leave..............................................................10 All The Moments.......................................................................11 A Wasted Life.............................................................................12 ‘Granpa’......................................................................................13

Two I Can’t Dance On The Wind.....................................................16 The Realm Of Silence................................................................17 Forgotten....................................................................................18 Possession...................................................................................19 My Hiding Place........................................................................20 This Inferno................................................................................21 What Do They See?...................................................................22 Is That Not Enough?.................................................................23 Look For The Unknowable.......................................................24 Better About What Lies Ahead..................................................25 My Quartet.................................................................................26

Table of Contents Three Down Together..........................................................................30 What If I Just.........? ..................................................................31 Yes, Dream..................................................................................32 Should I Tell Them?..................................................................33 Day And Night...........................................................................34 Whispers?...................................................................................35 Entropy.......................................................................................36 Where Did She Go?...................................................................37 I Once Had A World..................................................................38 Life Is For Discovery..................................................................39

Four Just One More Time..................................................................42 At This Intersect.........................................................................43 Your Permission?........................................................................44 Doubts About Love....................................................................45 Ah, Dessert!!...............................................................................46 Timeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Harvest............................................................................47 The Failure To Protect...............................................................48 You Will Not Be Consumed......................................................49 Observer Or Participant.............................................................50 A Turnstile..................................................................................51

Table of Contents Five Untethered.................................................................................54 At The Crossroad.......................................................................55 What I Lost................................................................................56 Searching....................................................................................57 Keep Them Safe.........................................................................58 Along The Shore........................................................................59 My Things..................................................................................60 An Acknowledgement................................................................61 I See It, Love It...........................................................................62 Below The Surface.....................................................................63

Six Was I Ever Younger?..................................................................66 The End Of Love.......................................................................67 Caught In Yin And Yang............................................................68 Summer Drifting........................................................................69 Above The Fog, Below The Clouds..........................................70 What If?......................................................................................71 Can I Outlive Me?......................................................................72 Never Reject Hope.....................................................................73 When To Love, Who To Love..................................................74 Let Your Life Live......................................................................75

Table of Contents Seven Lasting Tracks............................................................................78 Moonlight Desire.......................................................................79 Faith In My Hope......................................................................80 Young Again?..............................................................................81 Always Traces..............................................................................82 Because.......................................................................................83 Protect The Thread...................................................................84 Just Like That!............................................................................85 Improbable Lives........................................................................86 Ignore The Truth?......................................................................87

Eight Where Will You Find Me?.........................................................90 Only The Prelude.......................................................................91 Losing Your Way?......................................................................92 Much More Than Enough.........................................................93 The Veneer.................................................................................94 Words Bumping And Tripping..................................................95 The Final Queue........................................................................96 A Love Archeologist...................................................................97 In Gratitude................................................................................98 A Promise Fulfilled.....................................................................99

Table of Contents Nine The Moment............................................................................102 My Love Space.........................................................................103 Good Enough?.........................................................................104 Every Morning.........................................................................105 Love And Death.......................................................................106 The Call Of The Sirens...........................................................107 We Can Always Use Hope.......................................................108 Please, Take Me With You.......................................................109 Love Lost..................................................................................110 What I Need.............................................................................111

Ten No, You Will Not Find Me......................................................114 Why Do We Hold Back?.........................................................115 Night Of The Full Moons.......................................................116 Yes, There Is Evil......................................................................117 We Need Doubt, We Need Uncertainty.................................118 Me?...........................................................................................119 See The Heavens Fill...............................................................120 Scattered...................................................................................121 Thankful Wonder.....................................................................122 Please, More Silence................................................................123

Table of Contents Eleven My Shadow...............................................................................126 The Beast Within.....................................................................127 No, Not In A Moment.............................................................128 A Poet?......................................................................................129 That First Day And After.........................................................130 This Picture..............................................................................131 Hope And Promise...................................................................132 The Pity Of It...........................................................................133 Now What?..............................................................................134 Cherish The Unfathomable.....................................................135

Twelve Forgiveness?!............................................................................138 Life In Retrograde....................................................................139 Love Matter..............................................................................140 Slipping Through.....................................................................141 What To Make Of It?...............................................................142 Just Out Of View......................................................................143 Keeping Count.........................................................................144 The Wind At Your Back...........................................................145 Evidence...................................................................................146 Inevitable..................................................................................147

Table of Contents

One

TIME CHANGES NOTHING Time changes nothing. Even more than sixty years on, I still long to play with my yellow truck, have my milk and cookies, want my mother’s warmth and my father’s time. I still want to be the sheriff in ‘High Noon’, feel my toes in the sand, kick stones in the street. And, even after all these years, I still yearn to relive all of our times together. Indeed, time changes nothing.

THE TELLING (To be read slowly while listening to Claude Debussy’s ‘Clair De Lune’)

Please, come here. To me. Now bend in closer. No, still closer. I’ve something to share, something to tell. Only for you to hear. It’s my whispers, my story, being told, about us. Only for us. Because I want you, us, to know, to understand. I will tell it softly, sweetly, completely, because that’s my memory of it. Telling with the fondest remembrance, and the most loving tenderness. But please, don’t notice the tears as they roll down my cheek, or the catch in my voice as I choke back the bittersweet sadness caused by time and circumstance. I just can’t help it.

THE PAST NEVER FORGETS They were all there. Waiting for me. My beloved parents, grandparents, great grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and the others I missed so. I knew them all, but some I had never known. â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Sholem aleykhem!!â&#x20AC;&#x2122; All so happy to see me, so happy to be with me. Finally. There to celebrate, to welcome my arrival, back to our village. All the candles creating this wondrous golden glow. Singing, dancing, my favorite foods. I wept so in happiness. We continued on and on, through that night and every one after. I had longed so deeply to see them, to talk to and be with them again. Here, where I always knew I was meant to be. Yes, the past never forgets. 4

THE UNSEEN At age six, I recall being mesmerized by a late afternoonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s golden light filtering in through the wooden blinds in our Brooklyn apartment. I watched in amazement as what my mother said were dust particles danced about to their own tune. But, where did they go when darkness came? And where, exactly, did they come from? I tried using a flashlight to see if I could find them on cloudy days, but that didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t work. I could never locate these particles outside, even in the sunlight. I finally came to realize that there were unseen things of mystery occurring all around me in this world. Things that I might never fully understand. I still look for such mysteries, and when found I consider each one a wonderful new treasure.

CHILDHOOD IS FOREVER Why do I have to grow up? Where is the sense in that? I’ve never really understood the concept. I don’t mean about accepting many of the responsibilities that come with being older. No, I mean abandoning the joy, openness, playfulness, innocence, inventiveness, sense of freedom, and the limitless possibilities in how to view and interact with the world. Too many ‘adults’ become dour, too serious, constrained, drained of laughter and spontaneity, accepting of a fated, too predictable future. No, childhood is most definitely forever.

THE HEART KNOWS I can’t stop it. My heart. No matter what I do. It won’t rest, take a breather, a short vacation. From wanting yours. I seem to lack control, even sufficient influence, although you’d think I would. It definitely needs some time off occasionally. A respite, to meditate perhaps, enjoy some stillness, tranquility. To reflect, be certain, to always have a clear plan about its intent. Although you do have to admire its resolute commitment and focus. I mean, after all, the heart knows. Doesn’t it?

WHAT KIND OF POEM? So, what kind of poem shall it be this morning? The beginning of love? The end of love? Love unrequited? Love requited? The wonders of love or its burdens? Death and the Grim Reaper? The unkindness of time? Hope or hopelessness? The wonders of childhood or the fears of senescence? The blessings of intimacy or the omnipresence of loneliness? Physical beauty or the end of it? Memories or the loss of them? Come on, come on, pick one, so that I can just get on with it!!

REGRET It may happen like this.............. There will be something that suddenly reminds you of me, of us. Something that creates a warm, penetrating remembrance. It may be a word, a place weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been, something I gave to you. Maybe it will be a dream, or youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be thinking of a poem I wrote, something I said. You will feel that I am, so very painfully, just out of your reach. A forever, unrequitable longing. Missing me much more than even you thought possible. Something for which you were completely unprepared. You will feel a deep penetrating regret, a profound emptiness and sadness. But please, always know that it was also my regret. That I, above all else, wanted so much more time for us.

THE DEAD NEVER LEAVE The dead never leave. The ones you loved, the ones who cared about you. They never abandon you. They are always there, nearby. Just at the very edge of your awareness. You are what they still, and will always cherish. When you need them, they hold you close. For comfort, advice, support. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what they now do. No, not angels, but close.

ALL THE MOMENTS Sometimes, I wish this wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t so. It can be a burden. Definitely a personal challenge. Maybe it helps to explain. But, each moment with you often seems to be all of our moments. A summation, taken together. Both of whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been, and perhaps what part of me hopes may yet be. All of our times, all of our memories, relived in that instant. Each word, each kiss, each touch, each whisper, and what was meant but unsaid, and said and meant. Yes, each time.

A WASTED LIFE I can imagine no greater fear than to have had a wasted life. One without meaning, without love. The gift discarded, squandered. To have failed to care. To have failed to try to make the world and others better. To have failed to share hope and possibilities. A life without consequence, devoid of purpose. An aimless existence. To have taken but not given. A wasted life.

‘GRANPA’ I wasn’t sure that I had heard it correctly. So, I turned. There, in his stroller, with hand outstretched. 18 months. Saying my ‘name’ for the first time. And calling out to me, to hold his hand. Oh my, oh my! There are a few special moments, gifts, treasures, that life offers for which you are surprisingly unprepared, but have such an indelible impact, that remind you how wondrous your existence is and has been. How you are with purpose, the vital link to all that has gone before, that has enabled you to be who you are, where you are, connecting with what might yet be up on ahead. And to think, it only took one word. ‘Granpa.’

Two

I CAN’T DANCE ON THE WIND (Read while humming Bob Dylan’s ‘I Want You’. Well, sort of.) You ask too much. For me to love you differently than my heart demands. Because I’m not sure I can. You expect rules, limits, constraints. For me to deny every instinct. To do without the intimacy that is my very oxygen. To be both distant and close in the same moment. To be two when we should be one. To tolerate ambiguity when I need crystal clarity. I can’t dance on the wind. I can’t.

THE REALM OF SILENCE Silence isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t empty. It is filled with soundless whispers, secrets, thoughts that are never heard, images and stories never told. Unrevealed, unshared, but so often full of surprise and wonder. An imagined, personal, sometimes fantastical place. You can go there to visit, discover, escape, to reflect, whenever you want. Known only to you. Your own private cosmos. Surely, some of what is hidden inside is more splendid than what your eyes have seen or ears have heard. Not everything needs to be, can be, should be, shared.

FORGOTTEN I fear being forgotten more than dying. I expect that those who I now love, care most about, will remember and miss me deeply, some even profoundly, after I’m gone. Perhaps long for, wish for, more moments together. But, it’s the ones who follow, just after, who will let me slip away. Because they’re busy with other things, because I wasn’t well known or known to them. Not relevant. Understandably unaware that their grasp on me constantly weakens. That if they don’t somehow hold on I will tumble away, into the void, lost forever. I know it’s my fate, everyones, but one that I, nonetheless, fear and wish were otherwise.

POSSESSION Sometimes the strangest and most intractable thoughts take root. No matter how hard you may try to prevent it. And when the thoughts are of the so very potent mixture of love and lust you are helpless, possessed actually. Your mind, you, have no choice and must follow, with your heart in tow, to wherever it all leads.

MY HIDING PLACE I know I’m not there, but it sure feels like it. I’m sitting in my hiding place. An alcove just off the backyard of my apartment building that no one but me seems to go to. Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, 1951, Avenue P. It’s my favorite spot, mine, all mine. I can hear the cars and the street noise, but in here it seems very quiet. It’s just for me. I’m playing with my yellow truck. My favorite toy. Moving stones from here to there. So I can build something. Oh, do I love my secret spot. There is no place better. Still.

THIS INFERNO Oh my gosh, the heat! How high can your own temperature really get? Is it possible to ignite, to melt, to undergo sublimation and just disappear? I can feel every degree of this burning heat. But, it does feel good, so very very good. This inferno lit by the spark of our love. The flames fanned so fiercely by the winds of our passion. The cycle so thankfully endless. After each cooling, our constantly renewing desire simply creates the next spark, and the next, and.....

WHAT DO THEY SEE? What do I see, what do they see? My sons. I confess to always catching a glimpse of the child in the adult. Always. I can’t help it. Interestingly, I still see myself (well, except in the mirror) as I’ve been through my life’s continuum. I’m still the same me as I was at 8 years old sneaking off to Coney Island, fighting snowball wars from the roof of my apartment building. All this ‘growing up’, what does it mean in terms of our perceptions? Will that child that I see in me disappear? Will I stop seeing the child in my sons? What is it that my sons see now, and will see as I age? The father who held them close, or a father who appears to be becoming their grandfather and disappearing? I wonder.

IS THAT NOT ENOUGH? I will gladly give you all of myself that you could possibly want. So happily much more than you ever imagined. But never all. Who could fulfill and guarantee that promise? There just is some of me that I must keep only for myself. I know there are limits, although I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know now what they are. Perhaps I will in time. You have my heart, you have all of my love. Is that not enough?

LOOK FOR THE UNKNOWABLE Look for things that are unknowable. That can be explored but never discovered. That can be approached but never reached. Touched but not fully grasped. Started but never completed. Problems to be understood without concluding solutions. Things that may have enduring meaning. Look.

BETTER ABOUT WHAT LIES AHEAD Strange, just moments ago all of my thoughts, and remnants of my heart, were consumed with my ruminating about the harsh realities sometimes present in life. But now, as I sit here in the park, watching the utter joy of children as they laugh and play, with the sun low in the horizon beginning to share the wonders of its palette with me, I feel so much better about what lies ahead.

MY QUARTET Ah, love, happiness, hope, intimacy. My dazzling quartet, my precious holy quaternary. The ayin, the nirvana, that I seek. Together for me, entwined, forever inseparable, as one. All my heavens aligned. Achieved tranquility.

Three

DOWN TOGETHER After awhile you begin to wonder. The thought seeps in. You pretend to be unconcerned about yourself, but you are. Some of your contemporaries are dying. Crippling illness suddenly strikes those you know, some who you love. Seemingly a selection made at random. You speculate, ‘will death and disease pass over me and my house, or am I about to hear its knock? If them now, why not me?’ There is no comfort when it’s someone else and not you, no deep sigh of relief. Actually, you feel that their loss also chips away at you, your continuance. That somehow, you are part of a collectivity, and even part of a shared and special generation in time that has begun to disappear. As you think about this, a remembered phrase from the tune ‘Goodnight Saigon’, by Billy Joel, keeps repeating itself within you, ‘.........and we will all go down together....’. And then you know, that no matter how much you might wish otherwise, your far horizon just isn’t that far away.

WHAT IF I JUST............? Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the wind. The snow tapping against the window. Dawn is dawning. Now awake, I turn to you. You are deep in REM sleep. On your back. So still, barely breathing. Face serene, beautiful, delicious, irresistible. Lips dry, just parted, me struggling to resist. Watching, enjoying. Both your hands high up near your neck. Oh, that neck. Your contours calling me. What is the dream, am I in it? Right leg, next to me, uncovered. Oh, my my. What if I just lift the cover and............?

YES, DREAM Go ahead, fall in love. In love with who and what you are and still aspire to be. Live life as a great romantic adventure. Constantly move out from your â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;comfort zoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;, your routines. Think obliquely. Keep fun and comic relief central. Read fiction, all types. Date and court ideas, lead them on to consummation. Imagine the unimaginable. Smile and laugh a lot. Notice the details around you, ask questions. Be 9 when you are 43, 8 when 50, you get the idea. Make a list each day of at least five inspiring wonders you experience. Dream. Yes, dream.

SHOULD I TELL THEM? They seem so content and happy. So, I often wonder, ‘should I tell them and spoil things?’ You know, the key secret about a life. The one disregarded, removed from awareness, the undesired truth, not spoken about. Though I’m not sure that I would really be believed, that the fact would change what they do. So, why say it? Why tell them that their life will end, that it’s length and all the moments in between are unpredictable, so they should cherish every moment especially those of love and wonder? That a life, when later viewed, is not much more than a blink of an eye. And later, when they do realize this truth, that the years and memories will seem so faint that they’ll puzzle over whether these recollections were simply last night’s dreams. Well then, maybe its best to say nothing.

DAY AND NIGHT When the gift of the daysâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; first light arrives from the eastern horizon, and when it departs at the western edge, I feel the full blessing for all life, its continued presence, and my existence as part of it. With sleep I prepare for what is next. I wait and anticipate. Gratification then comes from modest rewards, reaffirmations. The feel of the wind against my skin, the fresh scents in the air, the sounds of laughter, but most especially the comfort and joy your voice, your presence brings to me.

WHISPERS? Although faint, I think I can still hear your whispers of love. They seem to pierce through the fog of anger since your hurtful words. But, are these just echoes from before, or messages to me from your heart as it now beats? A cruel deception, a trick of the wind, or a foolish self-deception? Maybe Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never know. Unless you tell me.

ENTROPY Are you in the grip of entropy? Your life defined by disorder, a lack of energy to do most anything. Feeling strapped in, barely able to move. Not really concerned with what’s next, or for that matter what’s past. Not able to differentiate between sleep and awake, because they seem the same. Wondering what the word ‘purpose’ has to do with your life. But finally, after lots of reflection, you realize that you’d like the opposite to characterize your life. Well then, you most definitely need love, and a lot of it. Yes, the emotional part and lots of the physical stuff as well. The intimacy, the passion, the...... Love is life’s basic energy source to combat entropy. So, get to it!

WHERE DID SHE GO? She first appeared walking, passing before my eyes, going from right to left. Slowed motion, very slow. Outside somewhere, a breeze. Her face first sideways, then turning to look at me while moving. A faint, indefinable, perplexing smile. All of her beauty though, so brilliantly illuminated by a resplendent sun. A playful glint shown in her eyes, but paired with a slight questioning frown. The background, a changing palette of deep water blues and spring fresh greens. Then, without a warning, as suddenly as she had appeared, total darkness.

I ONCE HAD A WORLD I once had a world. Mine. Inside, here. What a treasure. Far exceeding all hopes, all expectations. It took a lifetime to discover, nourish, create. Filled with serendipitous wonders. Filled with love and happiness. Fulfillment beyond all dreams. But, in a time yet to come, in the briefest of moments, perhaps without warning, it will disappear. Almost as though it never happened. Almost as though I never happened. Strange. So very strange.

LIFE IS FOR DISCOVERY In so many ways I’m still a child. And, will likely always be one. That’s not bad, I guess. Although at this age, it is a bit hard to think of myself precisely that way. It’s just that I still find myself trying to take first steps. For things I’ve never done or thought about before, things brand new. No parents left to help me. I just do them on my own. Yes, our inner and outer worlds, life, is for discovery.

Four

JUST ONE MORE TIME This morning I awoke from a very vivid dream. In the dream I had taken a ride on my bicycle to see my grandfather. But, when I arrived in front of his apartment building I suddenly remembered, to my sad disappointment, that he had died thirty years before. I stood there confused, uncertain about what to do. So, I thought, what was this dreamâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s meaning, its message? Not that all do, but I was certain that this one did. Inevitably, the parents and grandparents who you loved so dearly, die and slowly fade away from your awareness. This dream, I think, helped me to realize a previously unexpressed, powerful desire, this wish, to see those I loved just one more time. To be with them just once more, and to make absolutely sure that I told them all, absolutely all, that was in my heart.

AT THIS INTERSECT I am here. At this intersect. A particular spot. Between time and place. Waiting. Our known universe, 13.7 billion years old, 93 billion light years to traverse. Our own galaxy with its 200+ billion stars and a diameter of 90,000 light years. Within our own solar system born 4.6 billion years ago. Residing on planet earth, 93 million miles from our sun, one of 6+ billion people. Western Hemisphere, North America, USA. Latitude 42.980, longitude 78.735. My own ancestors dispersed from Israel about 2600 years ago, eventually forced to settle in what became Poland, the Ukraine and Latvia. Arriving in New York City 106 years ago. I, myself, came to this location about 50 years ago. I am now sitting here, with that backdrop, remembering how I got here. At this intersect of time and place. Waiting for you. Hoping that you will arrive, soon. 43

YOUR PERMISSION? I need your permission. To take up residence. On your cheek, perhaps. Maybe as a freckle or a beauty mark. You won’t even know that I’m there. I promise. Only for a day or two. I want to see what you see. Experience what you experience. To also feel the warmth of the sun, the cooling of the wind on your cheek. To observe, to feel, to try and know. More. About you. OK?

DOUBTS ABOUT LOVE Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure. Maybe Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m beginning to have some doubts about love. No, not about seeking it, or fully enjoying it when blessed with the opportunity to have it. But, the probability that it lasts, can be fully sustained, constantly satisfying, fulfilling, even exceeding your expectations. Is it just a cloudy day or am I changing from being a romantic to a realist? It would be too bad for that.

AH, DESSERT!! It is fascinating to watch. Mesmerizing, erotic actually. Because the same way sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s enjoying her food, her dessert, reminds me of how she seems to enjoy me. I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t take my eyes off of the performance. First, her delicious lips seem to move in slow graceful motion as her tongue delicately moistens them in preparation. Her eyes joyously watch in eager anticipation as the spoon delivers its sweet gift. She lingers, time suspended a bit, inhaling the aroma as the heavenly morsel arrives. When the lucky spoon is removed she takes her tongue and licks the spoon clean. There is an intake breath of delight, followed by an audible sigh of pleasure, ended by a faint smile of utter contentment to her inner self. Oooooo......... That lucky dessert!

TIME’S HARVEST I am Time’s harvest. My moments stored away in its granary. For purposes never made quite clear. I can’t recall all of the plantings, the fields being tilled, but in sum the experience has been absolutely wondrous. I’ve used my best judgment, since you can never be sure what it is Time wants. My fields now seem smaller, no longer rolling beyond a far horizon. However, I do still feel the hope and promise that the sun’s warmth and the sky’s rain bring, and am grateful for it since I always thought at this point that hope would fade.

THE FAILURE TO PROTECT I don’t remember precisely why, at that very moment, I showed you my heart, and offered it to you so willingly. I then asked for yours, and you gave it to me so eagerly. While all our expectations weren’t stated, we clearly understood the nature of our bond, the dimensions of the promise. We knew to always protect and share what was most vulnerable in the other. That we were placing somethings that were essential of our selves in the other. To make us one, to keep our love sacred. There was never ambiguity about trust, about obligation. How then was it so easy to break the promise, violate the trust, fail to protect what was so vulnerable? I just don’t understand.

YOU WILL NOT BE CONSUMED Oh, don’t worry, be assured. No, you will not be consumed by it. Love, that is. And, you will not be diminished by yielding to its power. So, don’t be so stingy, parsimonious, with the giving. Seize the opportunities, take the time. It can be constantly renewing with the right other. Remember that the possibility of love is there, within you, as life’s most magical gift. But that potential, if not shared, can wither and disappear forever. Be alert, pay attention. Because, sometimes, there is only one good chance in a lifetime.

OBSERVER OR PARTICIPANT Do you ever feel as though you’re an outside observer to your own life? A bit strange isn’t it? You do realize, don’t you, that it’s not supposed to be like that? Just watching as your life goes by. The things that you prefer and want to happen that don’t. You’d like to adjust, alter, make changes, but can’t seem to since you’re not a participant. Sometimes then you just have to scream, ‘stop!!’, and take charge. Step out of the shadows. Yes, go ahead. Bring forward a new light to show the way. Act!! Whose life is it anyway?

A TURNSTILE Do you ever feel as though your life is a turnstile, a revolving door? Some things always leaving. New things arriving. It seems that much of life just is that way. Perhaps to enjoy life more fully you have to learn to more easily let go as you embrace with enthusiasm that which comes next. Yes, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s try it.

Five

UNTETHERED What if gravity didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t always work? That sometimes you werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tethered to the ground. That occasionally you could actually float up. What is it you might want to do? Catch a ride with the wind? Hold onto some clouds and glide along lazily on a summer day? Play tag with the sparrows? Go south with the geese? Tap dance on the stars? Slide down a rainbow perhaps? Just what might it be? Because, you never know.

AT THE CROSSROAD Have you ever found yourself standing there all alone, at a crossroad, with all the traffic of your life whizzing by? Knowing that you are in a place of danger. So very confused, bewildered, wondering, â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;how did I get here, where do I go?â&#x20AC;&#x2122; With no one to ask, without a clue to the answer? Yeah, me too.

WHAT I LOST I lost something that day. Hard to say exactly what it was. But it was important, very important. I think it was part of my gyroscope. I was destabilized a bit. A certain absolute confidence about the future. That there might be much of one for me. What it might be like. Life now more about ambiguity than certainty. The length and clarity of my path now unknown.

SEARCHING I am out here, there somewhere. Wrapped tightly in the black cloth of the night. Embraced by it. Indistinguishable from it. Part of it. Unseen. Not sure where I begin and it continues. Searching. But, not sure for what exactly. For meaning, surely. For you, always. But, for what else? Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not really sure. Wish I knew. Or do I?

KEEP THEM SAFE Take these words and keep them safe. They are yours, only yours. These words are my greatest treasure. A gift of true value that is only mine to give. Keep them close, as you might me. Know where they always are, know where they can be found. Return them should they be no longer wanted. These words are ----â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;I love you.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;

ALONG THE SHORE Imagine for a moment that you are floating down your own river. As it meanders past your life. All that you pass on shore is your own past, everything. Now you’re watching, to see where you’ve been, what you’ve done and not done. Imagine that you have just five places along the shore where you could stop. Not to change anything, but to relive it exactly. Where would you stop? Why there?

MY THINGS So frustrating. Those personal things that I want to find, but can’t. I know they’re there, someplace. These things that are part of my story. That I need to have, to see again, to then pass on, so that I can feel completed. I wish these things could speak, call out to me, to tell me exactly where I can find them. Pictures, documents, personal ‘effects’, the tangible things that verify, ‘I was here’. I need them revealed, in my hands, to hold once again. My story. It’s an essential portion of what one really has and leaves. Isn’t it?

AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT No, I do not expect a response. No, I do not require one, but would prefer it. Occasionally, at least. Because honestly, it does matter to me. A real acknowledgment would be nice. Some sort of thoughtful reciprocation. That you saw, heard, agree or disagree, like or dislike. That perhaps there is some meaning there for you. Maybe something that you might even treasure.

I SEE IT, LOVE IT I see it, loved it. Your vulnerability, how delicately feminine and almost fragile you are. Your sweetness and warm affection. I think most others only see what you allow them - your strength, competence and toughness. For me your beauty is actually soft, tender, graceful, even though I know that youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d think such words belonged to someone else, but not you. And you might be surprised how your bare flesh continues to hold such mystery and arouse such desire for me. Yes. Now come closer.

BELOW THE SURFACE There is so much there. Far more than we can imagine. Yes, there, just below that vast pristine mountain lake known as your consciousness. Think about the complexity, the inventiveness of your dreams. What, you think theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re a podcast from an iPod?! What about the knowledge, the memories that emerge up during the course of your day? What, you think someone has implanted an advanced, not yet released PC or Mac?! And, there are no wires, chips, uploads, downloads, batteries, etc. Realize how truly unique and special you really are. Go ahead, roll up your sleeves, reach below the cool, clear, surface of that lake and find those thoughts, ideas, words that can make your life, and the life of the others you care about even better. Yes, sure, right now!!

Six

WAS I EVER YOUNGER? Was I ever really younger than I am now? Was my skin really firm, moist, without blemish? Was I ever able to see, to hear without assistance? Did I ever have full balance, able to get up and walk without pain or stiffness? Sleep through the whole night? Be unconcerned about the inevitable progression of time? Strange, I no longer remember being young like that, but still perceive myself to be unchanged. How can that be?

THE END OF LOVE I must banish this consuming desire that can no longer be fulfilled. Tear the need out by its roots. Shut off this fountainhead of caring and remembrance. To regain my balance. To see my world as foreground not background rather than how it now appears. Please, may I be made blind to the memory of her beauty, deaf to the fading echoes of her sweet endearments, mute to her response or lack of one. Canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t I put an end to all of this? Oh yes, I will. But when?

CAUGHT IN YIN AND YANG There are those impossibly frustrating moments. When what you want and need is there and available, but circumstances make it not obtainable. When desire says ‘yes’, but decorum says ‘no’. When you are struggling so in the same moment to both exert control and to relieve tension. Caught in the yin and yang of denial and pleasure. Maybe next time.

SUMMER DRIFTING Well, here I am. Enjoying this day. And, why not? Alone, peaceful, in a beautiful park. Everything and everyone seems in harmony. The flowers are open, smiling, sweetening the air. The trees, the grasses, are swaying and nodding to me in full agreement. The children are laughing, happy as they should be. I lean back, the sun warming my face, as I start to drift into an hypnotic summer haze. I sense your presence, even from this distance. Content, my eyes close as I float into your waiting arms.

ABOVE THE FOG, BELOW THE CLOUDS I am now out of sight, but close. Just there, above the fog, below the clouds. In between. A place to wait in anticipation. The comfort and beauty of the sun and moon above are close, calling out to me, as you are. The miracles of the lush green and blue of the land and sea below beckons, as you do. All the while we are distant, know that I am always much closer than you imagine. Yes, just there, above the fog, below the clouds.

WHAT IF? What if we never saw each other again? Things like that do happen. What if our last glimpse was just now, as you were leaving, as you turned, gave me that huge smile, blew that kiss, and mouthed those three words, â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;I love youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;? That sweet moment that I am now replaying in the slowest motion, and wondering.......what if?

CAN I OUTLIVE ME? I had this flash of a thought, ‘can I outlive me’? But, what exactly did I mean? Does that ever happen to you? You know, an interesting but cryptic thought pops into your awareness, and then you must try and figure it out. Perhaps this one means to live to an age, and in a way, that is totally unexpected. Or, maybe, it’s to find ways for the ‘essence’ of whatever is me, my values, work, ideas, my place in the hearts of those I love, to live beyond, well, the real live me. Sure, why not try to ‘outlive me’. I mean, what do I have to lose?

NEVER REJECT HOPE Why reject hope? Even when you might have every right to do so. Even when others do. Even as time whithers and circumstances erode reasons for optimism. Better to believe that some trace of light, a fragment of enlightenment might appear. Better to have a continued clarity of purpose and direction, and an unshakable belief in the possibilities of life.

WHEN TO LOVE, WHO TO LOVE Somebody, please tell me. Someone who is unequivocally wise and all knowing. How to be certain. To solve these mysteries. When to love, when not to love, and, who to love, who not to love. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d think it might be crystal clear instead of dense and murky. A heart can get really hurt in all the confusion. So, knowing would be a really good thing. With no ambiguity. So, please, what are the answers?

LET YOUR LIFE LIVE Just what is it that everyone seems to be afraid of losing? So many cautions that seem to freeze the actual doing. An aversion to act. Is it the possibility of the loss of face, the harsh judgment others might make? Understandable if it were about health, safety, or the continuation of life. But it’s especially puzzling when it’s clear that the action is a good thing, both for oneself and even others. Like love. Or is it a free-floating anxiety, a vague premonition that things just won’t go right, therefore, don’t act? A fear of really living. So, embrace life, encourage it, act, stroke its cheek, feel its warmth. Go ahead, let your life live a bit.

Seven

LASTING TRACKS In what now remains of my future, I want to follow my own path. One always covered with fresh, undisturbed snow. Where I can leave deep, indelible, lasting tracks. Of meaning for me, and others. One where every step, every moment, is a fond remembrance.

MOONLIGHT DESIRE I love seeing you naked in the moonlight. Monochromatic lush. The image imprinted. Your fleshtone aura creating this intense, magnetic desire that must be fulfilled. Some sort of moon magic, I guess. Your erotic curves leading to everywhere. And, I must follow them. Shadows barely cloaking hidden treasures that I must discover. Mmm... tonightâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a full moon.

FAITH IN MY HOPE I’ll be patient. I will wait for the return of your affection and the certain joy that will follow. No matter how long. Well, almost. I have faith in my hope. Even though it seems a bit bleak, I know there is a sliver of light somewhere in the fold of the unseen shadows that will seek me out. This is not an endless void, but an extended night with a dawn just beyond the horizon. And, if you listen so very carefully, you’ll know that the quiet isn’t silence. For our hearts always hear the beat and call of its forever other. Always.

YOUNG AGAIN? Tell me. Would you want to be young again? To start over if you had the choice. To be, let’s say ten years old. But without knowing what, or who, you now know. Everything after ten erased. A fresh start. Or pick whatever younger age you want, but with the same terms. Do you think in your ‘re-life’ you would make similar choices, take a different path? Or would you prefer to just ‘play out your time’ as it now remains? Tell me, which is it?

ALWAYS TRACES There are always traces. While the lipstick from your kiss, the scent from your fragrance, the warmth from your touch, the sound of your words, the pleasure of your look, and the results of our passion may fade and disappear on the outside, their inner imprint and memory remains embedded here, in my heart. Yes, there are always traces.

BECAUSE I must write these words and share them now. Before I begin to forget. Because I think thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s possible. Before time runs out. Because I think it might. Before events must be altered. Because I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know if I can. So that you will now know the truth. Because you must. I do love you, but I fear that I may lose my grasp on it. Because I doubt that I can hold on forever without more. The real, complete love that I require needs to be nurtured, regularly reinforced, reciprocated. It only thrives when paired with its full reciprocal.

PROTECT THE THREAD I have to always protect it. To make sure it never tears. This thread that constantly winds its way through my life. Connecting everything. Forever linking what was, with what is, with what will be. No discontinuity. Everything linked together. The thread, often unseen, is always there, and must be forever protected.

JUST LIKE THAT! It’s so tough to get them just right. The exact way you intend it. Words can get twisted so easily. And sometimes you can wring all meaning from them by saying either too much or not enough. Then there are these creases in some words that are so hard to straighten. Other words need a reflective surface but only seem to absorb the offered light. The surface of some are just too slick and slippery, so easy to fall on them. Others too sharp or too dull. So sometimes simple and direct is the best way. ‘I love you now and will forever.’ Yes, just like that!

IMPROBABLE LIVES How do we come to lead such improbable lives? Are events so random? Does serendipity or chaos play so much of a larger role than we are capable of imagining? Arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t you just a little surprised at how things have, or are turning out? Think of your own particulars now. What odds would you have given that your life would be the exact, or a closely similar life to the one you now have? Given that, how can we really predict what lies ahead? And yet, most believe that the trajectory of their lives is carefully planned, purposeful, predictable. Hah!! Is it that we want to, or need to believe that our existence is ordered, preformed? Must be.

IGNORE THE TRUTH? Why ignore the truth? Especially about yourself. Although, we all do. Maybe though, that approach isn’t really helpful. Of course, that depends on your aspirations for being the best you can be, and having the best life possible. It’s quite easy to self-deceive, dissemble, pretend, mislead. But, to what useful end? There are all sorts of prisms of distortion through which one can choose to view the daily flux of their own personal reality show. At some point though don’t you just have to ask yourself, ‘how much fiction is helpful?’ I mean, we’re not characters in another person’s novel or play. It’s our very own, one performance only, autobiographical documentary we’re talking about. I don’t suggest abandoning or even diminishing the presence of hope or avoiding those truths that will do more harm than good. Just an abundance of honest, constructive, reflective, objectivity. 87

Eight

WHERE WILL YOU FIND ME? Now that Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m gone, where will you find me? Most certainly in your memories, in my poems, in your heart. In the remains of my works, and in their effects. In the pictures. In the bits of me now in you. But no, not in that box, nor in that dirt and stone. No, never there. Not me at the end, only me before. Promise me that. I am now simply part of the harvest of what was. But you are still part of the seed of what can be. Please, cherish and never neglect that gift. And know that my love for you will never disappear.

ONLY THE PRELUDE I love to watch her move. Spellbound, actually. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m at rapt attention. A love reflex. So many delicious parts to follow, each competing for my attention. The urges they create. The desire. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think she really knows, understands. I have no choice. Looking away, impossible. I am compelled. It is required sustenance for me. I study, admire, marvel at what I see. Of course, the watching is only a prelude to the touching that follows. I hope.

LOSING YOUR WAY? How is it possible to just ‘lose your way’? To forget your intent, your hopes, your purpose, your dreams. What you love, who you love, and why. Even the whole intended trajectory of your life. How can such a thing happen? I mean, it’s not like misplacing your keys, or something just ‘slipping your mind’. Is it?

MUCH MORE THAN ENOUGH I can now just see the top half of my window as I lie in bed. It’s my first look at this next day. Spring is in the foreground, before its time. Every tree and bush has their buds opening, greeting the morning’s warmth and what the new season promises. In counterpoint, there is a harsh winter sky, clouds dark grey and silver moving northeast and fast, with wide streaks of blue peeking through. A day with an identity problem. I begin to wonder, what will the gift of today be? Because every day does have at least one. Each day and each gift is a special treasure. My hope, my wish, is that today’s gift will be to hold your hand, hear your voice, see the love you have for me in your eyes, and feel my lips on yours. Yes, that would, indeed, be much more than enough for any day. 93

THE VENEER Just who are they? I see them everywhere. They seek to exist only at the surface of things. They are the veneer, their only concern being their own veneer. They don’t engage in the body of all life, and don’t seem to care. Except for themselves, that is. They wait impatiently for their own pleasures. What is it to me anyway? Let them sleepwalk through life. Let them be vacuous vacuums. Let the rest of us be with purpose, to see beyond surfaces, to where our hearts need to be, over there, where it’s cold, dark, unseen, alone, where there is a difference to be made in the lives of others.

WORDS BUMPING AND TRIPPING It is so hard to say just what you mean sometimes. Words keep bumping into each other, tripping out of your mouth. They donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t seem to know who they are or where they are supposed to go exactly. Confused. There sometimes is this vast chasm between the knowing what you want to say and the doing of it. So, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s probably best to keep it as simple and direct, on point, as is possible.

THE FINAL QUEUE They are queuing up. The mourners. Each waiting their turn. To shovel some dirt. Offering their last respects. Taking their portion to help bury me deep. For some finality. The â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;amenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; of Kaddish, and I begin to disappear. Memory of me quickly begins to seep deep into my fresh grave, day by day, until nothing, nothing, remains.

A LOVE ARCHEOLOGIST Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m now a love archeologist. Looking for artifacts, remembrances of our times together. Gathering the evidence, things from writings, pictures, clothing, notes, anything offering information about the past of us. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m gathering it all together. Wanting to document and tell our story. About our so wonderful love. Now increasingly made of memories as time withers.

IN GRATITUDE I offer thankful gratitude for the strength, humanity, wisdom, joyfulness, cordiality of my spirit. This essence, defining, unique, distinguishing characteristic that is me. Not sure who or what should take credit for its ever presence, or how exactly it was implanted, grew, flourished. And I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t remember purposely constructing and designing it. It surely has been a wondrous companion and guide for, and through, my life. Providing a balance of admirable choices, while pointing the way that Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve, thankfully, mostly followed.

A PROMISE FULFILLED Are you a promise fulfilled? Well, at least to yourself. Have you done what you set out to do with your life? Have you exceeded, or failed to meet, your own expectations? Should you have set your sights higher or differently? Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not too late yet, there is still time. For new promises to be made to yourself and others, and to be kept. With a bit more time, focus, and the will to do so, you just might get there.

100

Nine

101

THE MOMENT There is this moment in time when you first realize, with absolute clarity, that you are no longer, and will never again be, who you were. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve crossed over without a return ticket. The changes are irreversible, your denouement the destination. All thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s left is setting the date. A moment of overwhelming, overpowering melancholy.

102

MY LOVE SPACE Our pheromones so happily meet at the door. A prelude to all intimacies. Then I seem to disappear. As we begin to love a very different state of awareness takes firm hold. Where is it that I go? I mean, here inside me. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s some hidden, special, treasured place. There in my deeply embedded neural network. Where the physical and emotional are being fused, where intimacy and trust flower. Where the wellspring of pleasure, happiness and contentment is found. My love space.

103

GOOD ENOUGH? Can we ever be good enough for the ones we love? Probably not. They might think we are, but it’s unlikely we’ll believe it. Maybe that’s a good thing. You know, the way it should be. Then we’re always trying, striving to be better, and yet still better for them. To bring them more happiness, to make the bond stronger, more resilient. And, because their joy is also the main source of ours.

104

EVERY MORNING Every morning I imagine endings and beginnings. About my life. Stories, thoughts, fiction, non-fiction. Anticipating, reflecting, musing. Can’t help it. I want to know what might occur before it does, regardless of its likelihood. A preview of sorts. Sometimes, I imagine the worst. Makes for better drama. Usually, it’s the best that happens. Tomorrow morning the daily cycle will begin again. Can’t wait.

105

LOVE AND DEATH Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had this belief, this foreboding, that somehow the end or interruption of love brings one closer to death. That love, and its close companion hope, help to keep death at arms length. That they create a temporary immunity, a protection, a purpose that compels life to continue. And with love gone, the Grim Reaper knows where you are.

106

THE CALL OF THE SIRENS How did Odysseus resist? The call of the Sirens to avoid being destroyed. Because, maybe there’s a lesson there for me, just in case. In case sometime in the future I need to stop this uncontrollable imperative to be drawn to your ‘call’. Not that I really want to stop, but the ‘call’ does make me obsessive and confused. Oh yes, I remember, Odysseus ordered his men to plug his ears with wax and strap him to the ship’s mast. Mmm, sure, that might work.

107

WE CAN ALWAYS USE HOPE Love is too complicated. So much is in the eye of the beholder. Where is the line between reality and imagination, reality and wishes? What for one might be just a pleasant lunch with an acquaintance, for the other is a rendezvous with love potential. What for one is a friendly ‘good morning, hello, how are you?’, for the other is, ‘he really, really cares about me.’ Yes, you do know what I mean. It’s just not possible to know the full intentions of the other, what exactly is their meaning of words, where the boundary then is between ones hopeful fantasy and stark reality. Could be that’s a good thing sometimes, I guess. After all, we can always use hope.

108

PLEASE, TAKE ME WITH YOU Please, take me with you. Whenever, wherever it is you might go. Even when Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not there. Always carry me in your heart. Whisper to me in the night. Let me feel the stroke of your caress, the taste of your kiss. Hold me fast in the awakening warmth of the morning. Imagine us there, together. Listen for my words of love. Remember our times and smile. Just donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let me slip away.

109

LOVE LOST Think of what youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve lost. Lost by witholding the love you so want and need to share. Think of what your other has lost. All the happiness, pleasure, joy, satisfaction, in the giving and receiving. For what, to what end? Love exists to be shared, not deposited into a bank where it can never be withdrawn. How many lives do you think you have anyway? How much time do you really know is left? Probably far far less than you think. What possibly could be a good reason? What, for spite, indefensible caution, doubt about reciprocation, momentary fatigue, some other free-floating concern, anxiety? These excuses pale in comparison to what is being lost. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be a fool, a Love Scrooge, who will only only be empty with sad regrets.

110

WHAT I NEED I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t need you to just love me. I need you to love me and to want me. All of the time. As I do you. Yes, both loved and desired. Anytime, all of the time.

111

112

Ten

113

NO, YOU WILL NOT FIND ME No matter where you look, you will not find me. No matter what you test, measure, examine, observe. I’m not what you can touch, see or analyze. Even if you could translate my encoded electrochemical neuroactivity, synapse by synapse, you still would not know. I am all of, and none of, the sum and the parts. Even if you could gather all possible information and inputs, it might only be an approximation of the ‘was’ me, not the ‘now’ me, or the ‘to be’ me. I’m not a static, constant thing. I’m continually changing,evolving, devolving, even mutating occasionally. Different than before, different than whatever is next. No, you will not find me.

114

WHY DO WE HOLD BACK? Why do we hold back? From saying what is in our hearts. From saying what is on our minds. To each other. Are you aware, do you notice? I don’t mean to imply that it maybe wrong. Just that it might be good to reflect on the ‘why’. Surely we are always editing what it is we say. We want the words to have their intended meaning. And, not everything that is inside us has to become external or we would only have time for talking and not listening. Still, you can’t help but wonder, why is it that we do hold back?

115

NIGHT OF THE FULL MOONS I long to hear that tune again. The one from the night of the full moons. The one that I now miss so much. The one that called out to my heart. The one that I dared not resist. The one that I would always hum at both the first and the last light. The one delivered from your lips. The one heard under a nightâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s blanket of crystal lights. The one that sometimes slips from memory. But, how could that be? So, please, come close, closer, and whisper that tune once again, and again, and again, and............ forever.

116

YES, THERE IS EVIL Oh yes, there is evil. It is out there. Go, turn and face the wind. You will smell its stench. If you search in the dark corners you will see its face, its bestial ugliness, barely hidden. It waits. For its moment. To inflict pain, sadness, and suffering. Beware.

117

WE NEED DOUBT, WE NEED UNCERTAINTY Imagine, each and every day, you awake with unambiguous clarity of purpose. Knowing exactly what you want to do, what you’re going to do, what you will accomplish, that you will fulfill your purpose, have all that you might want. Yes, every day. No struggle, no uncertainty, no doubt, and no serendipity. Everything completely predictable, known in advance, fulfilled. I wonder whether true love, wonder, joy, and happiness could exist in that world. While we don’t like being without, or being the occasional prisoner of uncertainty and doubt, I think that both probably are necessary for having, appreciating, and enjoying life’s most special treasures. So, what do you think?

118

ME? Wait, that can’t be me. I know me, and that isn’t it. I’d remember, wouldn’t I? I’d be able to tell with absolute certainty. I couldn’t have changed that much. I mean, it’s just too different. But, anything is possible, I guess. They say it’s me, but maybe they’re confusing me with someone else. I’d know better than anyone, wouldn’t I? Sure, things change over time, but not like that. Or do they?

119

SEE THE HEAVENS FILL Do you ever take the time? Time to watch the wonder. The grandeur. A reminder of how lucky you are. Well, why donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t you? Yes, tonight. Go ahead, take a chair outside. Just before the sun is about to rotate down below the horizon. Keep your eyes on the sky. Watch all of the spectacular majesty of daytime disappearing. Then, the magnificence of the arrival of nighttime. Now, sit for awhile longer and see the heavens fill. Really something, isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t it?

120

SCATTERED The wind was sudden, unexpected, ferocious, merciless. Blowing my words and thoughts everywhere. They were scattered, swirling about. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t gather them up, no matter how hard I tried. Scraps that could not be sewn or pieced together. To make things coherent. To say and write what I had to express. Moments, days, things can sometimes be like that. There are forces and events that just canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be foreseen. Sometimes the only way forward is to make a fresh start. But, how do you know when and where to start?

121

THANKFUL WONDER I wonder what others see. Do they see all of the beauty that is around them? I confess to being constantly overwhelmed by what I see. Sometimes, it brings me to the very brink of tears of thankful wonder. The purity, innocence, hope and expectation in the faces of infants and children. The soft, so delicate perfection of a flower petal, the arc and rhythmic movement of tree branches in the wind. The varying and emotive pastel colors embedded in ever shapechanging clouds at each sunrise and sunset. And the playful sparkle your emerald eyes create from reflected light, the erotic curves of your neck, shoulders and back as you lean into me. All this and so much, so much, more. 122

PLEASE, MORE SILENCE Is it real conversation I’m hearing or is it just noise? Are they communicating or only ‘flapping their gums’? I’m referring to both actual talking and the texting. So much of it, too much of it. Doesn’t anyone, anymore, know about the benefits of silence? Time to reflect, take stock, consider, develop a point of view, do some life planning. Perhaps spend more time in physical intimacy, touching, holding, smiling, laughing, even frowning, but in silence. Maybe some time alone to get to know oneself better. To think, to contemplate, to wonder, to formulate ideas. However, it doesn’t seem that this notion of reflective silence has much appeal to most. Are people actually afraid to be by themselves, to ‘talk’ to themselves?

123

124

Eleven

125

MY SHADOW Night is approaching. My shadow furtively slips away. I’ve noticed how at dusk he waits impatiently to merge with the coming darkness. This night I decide to follow. It’s not that easy, but I am determined. I follow around corners, up streets, through gardens. A full moon and emerging stars help me to see. My shadow is unaware that I follow. Finally, he seems to have reached his destination. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, but am, nonetheless, peculiarly envious. He coils around, and so enthusiastically melds with the object of his intense affection. Your shadow.

126

THE BEAST WITHIN Sometimes, especially when we are close, donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be misled by my apparently calm demeanor. For beneath, there is a fierce struggle. To control a burning lust. A raging battle is underway to strap down this carnal desire. You are as a feast before me, and my hunger seems as though it has been unmet for weeks. So, be careful about encouraging this beast within. Because you just might get exactly what you are wishing for.

127

NO, NOT IN A MOMENT A thoughtless word, an awkward pause, a silence misjudged. Creating unintended emotional distance. Bonds of worth are built over time, brick by brick. They are neither destroyed nor constructed in a moment.

128

A POET? A knowledgeable friend, who has read my poems, recently called me a ‘poet’. But, am I really a ‘poet’? It sounds lofty, implying a talent and skill, a gift of artistry, that I don’t recognize in myself. Coming to the activity later in life, with little background and experience, I just can’t seem to affix the ‘poet’ label to my lapel. However, that’s not what really matters. What is are the words that I’ve fastened together to express thoughts and feelings that I would like some others to read. Yes, to be read, that’s it. By some who I know, and others who I don’t. For them, hopefully, to discover something of personal meaning and perceived value for themselves. To have taken time for reflection, with some enriching consequence for their lives. Yes, that’s the result that I seek.

129

THAT FIRST DAY AND AFTER It must have been deeply imprinted, embedded within me, then, that first day. I must have felt their adoring kisses, tasted her milkâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sweetness, known love. On that first day I must have seen the sun, felt its warmth and promise, listened to my parentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; whispers for the me to come, known hope. On that first day I must have heard their laughter, seen their smiles, known happiness. On that first day I must have been held so very close, so tenderly, known caring. Everything, everything, I needed to know -------- love, hope, happiness, caring -------I was taught by them on that first day and every day after.

130

THIS PICTURE Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m sitting here, holding this picture of you. Wondering, what it is that I see, and what it is I feel. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s from long ago. You look gorgeous, beautiful, as you do now, but different. A moment that was ours. You are smiling, radiant. It really, really pleases me. To see and remember you so very happy.

131

HOPE AND PROMISE Sometimes I can feel it. As the air seems to fill with the prospect of hope and promise. A strange, but exhilarating sensation. No, not clairvoyance or a concrete message delivered from one of the usual senses. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s almost tangible, but not quite. Similar, but special. A very desired expectation that will soon be realized. A heightened awareness, anticipation of its probability. A reward, reinforcement for your unshakable belief is coming. That good and desired things will happen. That hope and promise are, and will be, fulfilled.

132

THE PITY OF IT Aye, the pity of it! Most don’t hear the universal calling, or do hear, but don’t care. Its insistent, persistent voice through all ages, all times. Because of the need that’s always been there, will always be there. The need to help others. We’re needed you know. To help the many who circumstances have deprived. That’s true enough. Too bad, too many have a tin ear, and don’t hear the call. Aye, the pity of it!

133

NOW WHAT? Ah, you’re in love. Well, it certainly seems that way. You plunge forward, headlong into the storm of passion and beyond. It envelops you, totally. You’re wrapped so tightly in its arms. It holds you fast. You revel in your good fortune. The happiness, the ecstasy it brings. A little time passes. It’s wonderful. After awhile, you take a breather. You lift your head up. Have a look around. And then, you ask yourself two questions: -’Just where am I?!’ - ‘Now what?’

134

CHERISH THE UNFATHOMABLE How little we really know. How little we really understand. So many penetrating mysteries. Unfathomables. That will always, forever, be there. Some insist on the creation of fables to explain the unexplainable. Superstitions, rituals, invented with a claim they originate from the ‘source’, and are the one and only truth. So many, too many, blindly follow these self-proclaimed authorities who assert that they speak for, represent, the ‘source’. But what is beyond the beyond? What grand collective purpose is there to our lives, our existence? Important questions to be seriously considered. However, why not be satisfied with dwelling on the question, knowing there is no final answer? That the unknowable can’t be known. Without accepting easy, convenient answers, simply because that’s what others believe. Without allowing oneself to conform to outlandish, ritualistic answers that create an ‘us’ and a ‘them’, and the hate filled insistence that only ‘we’ can be right? Beware of absolutes and their vendors. Cherish the unknowable. 135

136

Twelve

137

FORGIVENESS?! Born into abject poverty. A life of constant struggle, torment, hardship. Each day, every day. Working from before dawn to after dusk. Just for food, clean water, basic sanitation, a roof, school for his children, access to health care, hope. He prays to God. Asking for forgiveness for whatever it is that causes him to have this life, this misfortune. But, why should this man be asking for forgiveness?! It should be God asking this man for forgiveness!! For His thoughtlessness and cruelty. Let them exchange places for a bit. Amen.

138

LIFE IN RETROGRADE Lately, I seem to be caught in some kind of weird time warp. With every step forward, it seems that life moves backward. With each tick of the clock, time recedes. That the only future seems to be the past. And, what first appeared ahead, turns out to be behind. It is life in retrograde. Well, I guess, perhaps, maybe, sometimes, the certainty of being back where you were may be better than what may, or may not, lie ahead. Could be.

139

LOVE MATTER When we are close, really close, I feel porous, permeable. As though I’m both absorbing you, and a torrent rushing to you. That our ‘love matter’ is in rapid flow. That we are freely seeping into each other across steep gradients. And, as it is happening, all of our senses are on highest alert, to share and experience the wonder.

140

SLIPPING THROUGH If you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t pay careful attention things can slip right through your fingers. Things that you really want to have, to hold onto. Simple things like good moments lost, or more important things like the opportunity for happiness that disappear. And, of course, even a whole lifetime can just vanish. Not paying attention, a failure of will, a naive belief that whatever is missed can later be found. But mostly what slips away is lost forever. Time is unforgiving. There really are few, or even no, second chances.

141

WHAT TO MAKE OF IT? I’m not sure what to make of it. Not certain I know what it means. There are important lessons here, but it’s not clear what they are. Young teenagers, HIV/AIDS orphans in remote, rural Africa. I’ve met them. Sweet, thoughtful, hard working, unspoiled, hopeful, purposeful. Is that how one would describe our advantaged Western teens? No? Well, why is that?

142

JUST OUT OF VIEW Sometimes, it may seem that your other’s heart is just out of view. Indistinct beyond a gathering mist, out of reach around an ever bending curve, obscured by a sun blinding haze, indefinable in a late afternoon’s dimming light, blurred by seemingly ambiguous movements, waiting behind an opaque curtain. Teasing, purposeful or unintentional, or just a lack of acumen on your part? So vexing to try and figure out. Maybe one can only truly know one’s own heart.

143

KEEPING COUNT I’ve started to count. To keep track. Of the weeks, of the days. Of just how many, hopefully, are left. I guess some would say, ‘isn’t that a bit morbid?’, or ‘you never know’. Perhaps, but I want to try and waste less time, to pay closer attention. To each day. To make sure that I’m a better custodian of my own time. That I’m more conscious of the choices to be made. Because what is missed, is gone. Saying otherwise is a lie. The only time you have is what is within your own jar, and you can’t steal or borrow more. Ok then, ‘five thousand, six........’ .

144

THE WIND AT YOUR BACK Hope can whither from disuse, fade away, even disappear. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s easy to forget to live your own life, the one you want, expect, dream of, hope for, rather than the one others want for you. Always remember just what it is you truly long for. Then find your wind, the one that is there only for you, and always keep it at your back.

145

EVIDENCE I search inside for it. I know it’s there. Evidence. Of our moments, especially the best, that they occurred. That it wasn’t some fabulous imagining, a conjuring, invented through dreams. But time sometimes wipes away such traces. Memory blends, confuses, even creates. In the end only fragments, pieces of a few remain. That’s why each next together is so important. It is both a confirmation of what can be, and a reminder of what was.

146

INEVITABLE I can’t quell the depth of my disappointment, the anger. But, I don’t know to whom, or to what, to direct it. I still can’t grasp that it will be, has to be, that I am powerless to alter the finality. Of course, I understand the facts, the absoluteness, the indisputable reality. Acceptance of, expecting, yielding to, the inevitable, is what’s sensible. But, how could it really be, that I will cease to exist, and not be with you forever?

147

‘For our hearts always hear the beat and call of its forever other. Always.’ - Faith In My Hope ‘Even after sixty years on, I still long to play with my yellow truck, have my milk and cookies, want my mother’s warmth and my father’s time.’ - Time Changes Nothing ‘Look for things that are unknowable..........that can be explored but never discovered..........approached but never reached.......... touched but not fully grasped..........look.’ - Look For The Unknowable ‘When we are close, really close, I feel porous, permeable, as though I’m both absorbing you, and a torrent rushing to you.’ - Love Matter ‘Go ahead, fall in love. In love with who and what you are and still aspire to be..........Dream. Yes, dream.’ - Yes, Dream ‘I’m not a static, constant thing. I’m continually changing, evolving, devolving, even mutating occasionally.’ - No, You Will Not Find Me ‘..........the love that I require needs to be nurtured, regularly reinforced, reciprocated. It only thrives when paired with its full reciprocal.’ - Because ‘Everything, everything, I needed to know ---- love, hope, happiness, caring ---I was taught by them on that first day and every day after.’ - That First Day And After ‘The amen of Kaddish, and I begin to disappear. Memory of me quickly begins to seep deep into my fresh grave, day by day, until nothing, nothing remains.’ - The Final Queue ‘I must always protect this thread that winds its way through my life........ connecting everything........forever linking what was, what is, with what will be’ - Protect 148The Thread