Green

They say the earth is blue

To me it is green

I love green

in all of its bold and subtle shades such as

Chartreuse

Emerald

Lime

Aquamarine

Teal

Bottle

Glaucous

Asparagus

Olive

Celadon

Jade

Malachite

Sage

Forest

Spring

Viridian

Persian

Tea

Jungle

Ah, yes. I love Green!

 

The Great Cloud

The Great Cloud held

Space and time

The Great Cloud was not only vast

It was pervasive

The Great Cloud was also

Laden with life

Never more and never less

Neither created nor destroyed

Continuously bursting

Spewing forth

Drops of life

The drops of life were

Meant to exist briefly

Beginning and end

Moments to shine

Moments to flicker

Moments to expire

These drops of life plunge

From The Great Cloud

To the Earth

Kissing its surface

Playing out their lives

Glowing with vitality

The drops of life descend

En masse in a never ending

Cascade of purposeful process

Reaching for their space to be

To express their lives

The drops of life plummet

As a collective

But once on Earth

They prevail as individuals

Some extinguish and evaporate

Instantly

Many others carry on for a

Long while

Some drops of life live

Their lives in water

Others on land

Some nourish plants and

Animals

Others add to the seas

Some make mud

Others shape beautiful pools

Together the drops of life bestow

Action and composition

To the Earth

They sustain meaning and

A means for existence

To look back upon

Itself

Over time

The intention of each

Drop of life is

Completed

The Sun and the Earth

Let each drop know

When its manifestation is

Fulfilled

The drops of life become

Vapor

They rise to rejoin

The Great Cloud

Home again in the

Bosom of all that is

Needed

In preparation for

The next journey to

The earth

To begin anew

 

The Green Dome

It starts as buds

Reddish ones

Together blending

Into a blush

Some rain

Some sun

Climbing temperatures

Convert the red

To green

The freshest and most

Succulent green

Short maples and

Beeches

Begin to form the

Dome’s walls

In time the

Oaks

Always late to the

Party

Fill in the

Canopy

For the next

Five months

We will live

Under the

Green Dome

Protected

Shaded

Its grandeur and

Beauty

Still awes

After nearly

Two Hundred

Years

On this little

Patch of

Land on

The edge of the

Woods

 

New Year’s Eve

He was thirteen years old

awaiting the clock

to strike midnight

on New year’s Eve 1966

As the time approached

for 1967 to begin

he wanted to look out

of his bedroom window

into the still, dark, and cold

winter night

What might happen

at the moment

when the year shifted?

Might there be a sign

of some sort?

Maybe something to sense

or detect?

He looked closely

anticipating

When 1966 yielded

to 1967 the boy

saw, heard, and felt nothing.

The world remained

the same

The stillness, darkness,

and coldness was unmoved

The start of new year was

anticlimactic

Nature cared not for the

human construct of time

The world exists as it does

whether it is observed

or not

What humans mark as important

matters not to the

external world

We are we

and it is it

So he went to bed

unimpressed, but wiser

The world of man may

enthrall

yet it is of minor importance

when contrasted with

the world

as it really is

 

Dureé

Henri Bergson said that

“time is not space.”

Space we can quantify

True time is not quantified

Yes, there are

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, etc.

But true time is dureé

A moment is but

An instant

An occasion of awareness

Moments are not measured

Moments are felt

They are experienced

Together moments comprise

A life

Dureé is pure temporality

Sheer occurrence

Not sliced and diced

by units of measurement

Dureé is the

lived flow of consciousness

 

A Conversation

They sat at a small table

In a far corner of the coffee shop

“I’m bored with my marriage,” he said

His friend listened quietly

“I know I should be content with all

Of the good things.”

“And I do still love her.”

“I think I always will.”

“But I don’t know

What it is like to be

Truly free.”

“I’ve never in all of my life

Been in a situation where

I can just pick up and go

Wherever and whenever I want to.”

“From the time I was a child

There have always been constraints.”

“I’m afraid that I now feel

Like my wife has become another one.”

“So, what is missing?” asked the friend

“My sense of autonomy,” he said

“The ability to make decisions without compromise.”

“I don’t know how to feel strong.

How to truly stand on my own.”

“Okay,” said the friend

“But I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” asked the friend

“Scared of being alone. Scared of not sleeping.

Lying in the dark of the night.

All alone.”

“Pacing the house with no one

To talk to.”

“And I still love her.”

They looked at each other.

Quietly.

There was nothing more to be said

At that moment

 

Clean Fill Wanted

Homemade signs nailed to trees

Where they are visible to passing vehicles

Landowners pleading for clean fill

To backfill and to replace the unsightly

And weak hollows of their properties

The requested material must be free of contaminants

No hazardous or man-made waste materials

Just simple soil, gravel, or sand

The basic substance of the earth

Being repurposed to smooth out and to reinforce

The land which had been disturbed

In our need for development and transformation

Our desire to shape and to polish

The earth as we found it

But which we found lacking and incomplete

And in need of our interventions to add value

To add practicality and to fulfill our vision

Of aesthetics and a proper sense of place

We landscape to mindscape

To leave our imprints on the once

Virgin earth

Now new and improved

 

Another Mundane Moment

Another mundane moment

Like the hundreds before

And the hundreds after

Which together comprise my day

These humdrum instants

These unremarkable seconds

Alight without fanfare or flourish

Exist without much consideration

Punctuating an otherwise ordinary day

But today I will welcome the commonplace

I will rejoice in these streaming ticks of time

Today they are not dismissed as inconsequential

As tedious and uninteresting occasions

Rather I will see them for what they are

Precious episodes of reality…my reality

Influenced by my past

Predictors of my future

Attempts at randomized order

Fueled by my breaths

One after the other after another

Objects of my fleeting attention

And if I choose, my adoration

My life still clings to a routine eminence

Buttressed by an endless flow

Of mundane moments

 

Craving

To want something so bad it hurts

In a desperate attempt to achieve perceived happiness

We latch onto fantasies

Involving people and things

That if we had in our grasp

We think

Could bring us that special something that is missing

From our incomplete and unsatisfied lives

Instead of being grateful for what we have

We cling to illusions of what is better

And so often what we lust for is not attainable

It is so far out of reach as to be inconceivable

Why bother, we ask ourselves

Because we want it, damn it

We want it badly

That’s all there is to it

And we suffer as a result of our cravings

To yearn for the unreachable

Leaves us discontented and unhappy

Better to have simple and minimal tastes

To not expect more from this life what is easily available

Then we will be happy

Or so we tell ourselves

 

I Love It When

My favorite room is warm and inviting

The rhythm of Nature is viscerally experienced

Knowing that all of my family members are well

There is just the right amount of order in my world

The sun’s rays are the angle saying winter is ending

A picture captures that perfect sense of place

There is time alone to think, reflect, and feel

Enjoying the first sip of a great beer

She is happy

I feel another’s love

I get it

I am at peace