8. HOMAGE TO A WEEPING WILLOW

Across the lakeside meadow,

Where the grasses meet the woods,

I used to sit upon a tree stump

Watching as you stood

Majestically at water's edge,

Slow-dancing with the breezes,

Branch-tips lightly skimming

Lily-padded pond.

Now that you're gone,

The unobstructed view

Gives little comfort

For the loss of

How you married

Earth to Sky, and

How you kissed the Water.

7. PLAYMATES

Unblemished by judgement 

(Her own or anyone else’s),
The raucous-patterned butterfly
Goes about her business.
Her work and inclinations
Keep her unaware of the
Human child hiding there
Among tall grasses
Shrubs and wildflowers.
Paying rapt attention
To the flitting and the
Flying and the lighting
On the leaves
The child slowly
Spreads her arms 
And starts to flutter them
Her spirit taking flight 
among the flowers,
shrubs, & grasses. 
Only then the butterfly
Can see the child and
Joins her in some 
Raucous-patterned
Flitting, riding currents,
Skimming surfaces,
And drinking nectar.
Together, they fly off
Across the lakeside meadow.

6. LOVER'S JOURNEY

As you remember it
You came into this life
Consumed with Passion—
Loving loudly and with gusto
Many things that
Made their way across
Your newborn path.
Choosing for a mother
One whose passions
Were expressed
In raging at her children
And in playing
Chopin etudes
On the piano,
Your passionate
Expressions often
Triggering her
Homicidal fury,
You learned to hide
The things that gave
You pleasure. Hid them,
Then forgot where you
Had put them, then
Forgot you ever had them.
At the gateway to your
Elderhood, as memory returns,
You pray a prayer of gratitude
That though there was
Some heartache on the path
You’ve hung on long enough
To get to feel how sweet
Life’s been to you so far
You eagerly anticipate
The full reclaiming of your
Birthright: a life infused with
Loud and raucous Passion,
Unimpeded by propriety
Unencumbered by shame,
Unblemished by judgement.

5. FIRST DATE

Before you get there,
You pull over,
Take a breath, then
Looking in the
Rearview mirror, you
Fix your hair so
That the curls
Regain their
Random sauciness, and–
Though you want to
Only pay attention to
The way things really are –
You wish the last
Ten years hadn’t
also happened
to your face.
As you park your car
And make your way
Into the restaurant,
You remember
In a burst of
Images and song
The life you’ve lived
So far: the people you
Have loved and
Who’ve loved you.
You can feel them
Celebrating that
You have, perhaps,
Embarked upon the
Next leg of the
Lover’s journey.

4. TRAVEL PLANNING

Because you can’t

know anything

more than what
you know right now—

This “now” a rich

compendium of

everything that’s

come before—

Because your best guess

has you referencing

the way things used to be

which only can

approximate

the way things are,

You think perhaps

the time has come

to look down

where your feet

are standing.

note particularities

of terrain,

feel into the

energy of this

time and space

and only then,

with care and

great intention

will you take a step

and then another, and

another, keeping on

until it’s clear

you’ve reached

your destination

of the moment.

In this way

you think you

may avoid the

pitfalls of the past
when you’d get
someplace before 
you had arrived.

3. MATTERS OF LIFE AND DEATH

To be awakened

From a dead sleep

By a ringing phone.

To hear your older brother

At the other end

Repeating to you,

Till you get it,

Till your mind

Discerns that

This is not a dream:

“He’s saying Kivi’s dead,”

You hear your own voice

Speak the words

So that your lover

Can perhaps explain

To you what’s going on

“He says a heart attack,”

As yours feels like

It’s going to beat a hole

Right through your chest.

Dead. The brother who

You haven’t spoken to

For years, the one

Who hurt you,

Shaped who you’d become --

No more the brother

You’re not speaking to,

Because you won’t, is

Now the brother

You won’t see again

Because you can’t.

2. WAKING UP

At the dawning of the day

Your cat, an urban stand-in 

For a crowing rooster, 
Bats your glasses 
From the nightstand 
To the floor. 
And just in case 
The message 
Hasn't reached you, 
She makes her way 
Imperiously 
Across your body 
Plops down
On your pillow 
And loudly purrs 
Directly in your ear. 
You stretch, 
Recalling that there are 
Worse ways 
To be awakened.

1. BREAKING TRAINING

With Gratitude to Julian of Norwich, died c. 1416

I let myself believe

that all is well, and

all is well, and all

manner of thing

shall be well.

How contrary to

my upbringing,

this notion is,

as if to see

this troubled

world and feel

around inside it

for the healing,

is to be

boring, vapid,

born without

imagination, or,

worse yet,

a traitor to

my ancestors.

But I take comfort

in the certainty

that we mystics

have no need of

adjectives, and that my

Sister Julian

would recognize me

not as Jewish mystic

but as a fellow celebrant

at the dawning of the day.

(Thanks also to Joanne Rose, fellow Type Rider Writer. I've launched this collection using a phrase "I let myself..." from something she wrote. And while I'm about the business of acknowledgements, special thanks to my friend and teacher, Maya Stein.)