Notes From Another Realm -- Part II

There is nothing less than anything; look we do, 

and breathe, and voices of Rosemary and Sage 

spread their fragrant anythings in less 

than all things nothing.

~Coyote

Fragmented poetics, non-linear beauties;

words, unexpected choruses, and

finally, the iambic bluster.

The difference between passionate love

and madness is like the difference

between red and red.

From wine is the richness of Life;

from Tequila is the fullness of Earth,

but it’s the fragrances of flowers 

that make the stars twinkle.

When is it time to discard useless things?

When you cannot see yourself in the mirror.

Know yourself by what you discard. 

Life took me by the hand and such 

a grip it was, but I thought 

I was waiting for the amorous glance.

Is home a place or a longing for a place?

Or a condition of the heart?

Or is it nostalgic for something 

that never was but could have been?

Can you feel the offer of serene greetings?

I’m aging, though not old and 

not finished growing or growling.

What is the way of coming out of yourself,

that brings another world right to you,

to land on your shoulders like a bird?

When that time comes, you will have

passed the vanishing point.

From:  Finding My Way:

One Man’s Spiritual Quest

For The Divine Presence

Unpub. MS p, 30

Becoming Old Folks (Part I)

Epilogue, Part I

ca. 1970-present

We entered the world after our protests, 

love-ins, and show-downs, ready to prove ourselves.

We lingered at the university gate, not wanting 

to leave, yet fearful of that first step forward.

Some who lacked a plan asked themselves,

What now? Most figured out something, some didn’t.

Some hoped to apply their idealism to social programs, 

others were sucked into corporate America

never to be seen again; some remained stoned

for a number of years, others plainly floundered.

Many of us did the best we could, getting married, 

raising kids and pets, entering unplanned careers,

remaining involved, at some level, in politics,

social issues, PTA, and our kids’ sports teams.

It added up quickly, it seems, as we saw the future

watching our grandchildren grow into themselves,

while loneliness and vulnerability 

are increasingly an everyday reality.

From: A Meandering Search for

Innocence, Time, and Love

Unpub. MS p. 47

The Not So Exhaustive Advice Of A Subversive Teacher (Retired)

Learn how to use solitude for growth and insight.

Look at landscapes and cemeteries;

notice the texture of things.

Get out of the desert in the fall.  Go someplace

that has fall colors.  Paste them onto your faces,

necks, and chests.  Walk proudly.

Laugh immeasurably.

Learn how silence opens the soul.

If you crave magic, paint with the brush of wind.

Walk along a river.  If it’s dry, walk in it.

Wish others well, even if they cut you off in traffic.

Do things that can’t be digitized.

Say things that have no questions.

Ask questions that have no answers.

Stand your ground when it’s right; 

compromise to move on.

Don’t live in fear. That’s living life half.

Kiss. Don’t forget to kiss. Add fire often.

Love passionately and fearlessly.

Stand naked in the rain.

Rejoice in the variety of life.

Seek spirituality.

As much as possible, remain loyal 

to your friends and family.

Proper grammar will not ruin you.

Do something creative often.

Make no more tracks than necessary.

Remember, there’s always a “work around.”

Praise the sounds of nature like music.

Never forget those sounds.

Read books.

Learn to cook.

No matter how old you are, 

you are always young and good looking.

Remember how the kindnesses of men and women

move through the universe.

Clean off the day with a prayer of gratitude.

Practice forgiveness and redemption.

Say, Amen! 

Often.

From: A Preface To The Universe:

Women, Getting Older, and Other Mysteries

Unpub. MS p. 17