Month: January 2015

This is a daily I wrote on Jan 27, 2012. It came knocking on my window this cold wintry morning….

I live in southern New England, below the Merritt Parkway.
I could even say I live at the shore with a view of the whole United States to my right… and a view of the rest
of the globe over the boundless ocean at the edge of my
left shoulder… to Nantucket and beyond.

Here, we had a very early sudden snow at the end of October, with occasional ‘weather’ since. Right now, we’re
in a lull of bare trees, chill winds, dark afternoons.

Not so the rest of New England! Many inches of snow, even the bears in the backyards, looking for forage.

Now, this morning, I have chosen a poem perhaps born of
this time of year, and it’s set me thinking:

L A N D S C A P E

Isn’t it plain the sheets of moss, except that

they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about

spiritual patience? Isn’t it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?

Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.

Every morning, so far, I’m alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky — as though

all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.

………………MARY OLIVER,
from her book, Dream Work, 1986

Aha! It could be like that, couldn’t it?

I could imagine
what I would like my life to be, so strongly that it
turns out to be just like that.

It’s even quite probable that that’s exactly what’s
happening.

with love …
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

I remember striding across the campus of my college days
in Philadelphia, excited by the freedom of classes done
for the day, and all of life ahead.

A song would play in my head to match my stride,
“blue skies, smiling at me…”
and forever that song has returned, always a renewing
factor of whatever growth cycle I find I”m in!

Apparently, I am not alone in that experience.
I found this poem in a book of poetry that I’d like
to share with you:

“As I say aloud the opening line
Of my favorite poem,
My breath calms.
Soon
The sounds I make
Set my hands dancing,
And next my feet
Begin to move.

Before I know it,
I’m walking again
In the city.
My stride’s jaunty,
My legs feel strong.

I’m an old man
Made young again
By the poems I love.

Reciting them as I saunter along.”

…………GREGORY ORR, from his book of poetry,
River Inside the River.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette