Focus

Focused. On myself,

on my reflection;

that which I show outwardly to the world.

Focused on myself, sitting in front of this mirror, 

on the me that sits beyond this glass.

Focused, when all the world is a blur behind me.

When motion is perceptable only by the light that gives chase,

trying to catch up to all that moves,

beyond my reflection.

and time passed, no soared, and yet, trickled...

and though my concentration only broke for that split-bit of a second,

the world that was moving over my shoulder suddenly crashed,

into focus.

Jan '03

in the time it takes to traverse an ocean 

as the minutes dripped past 

and the hours hurtled forward 

i envisioned the time i'd see you again.

Some Day

When we're old & gray and sitting across the table from each other with nothing much to do, don't be surprised when I point to my laugh-lines and blame them on you.

Happy Endings

Happy Endings happen-
when you stop the story at just the right spot.
Odd that our fantasies should end with the exact moment that holds the most hope,
and looks into the future with eternal anticipation.
But that’s all that they are.
So, you will create your own happy ending…
again
& again…
directing your gaze forward, squeezing hope out of the everyday things

I’m in love with this life,
and the balance we teeter upon and find pleasure in.
Comfortable with a slight wobble & gyration-
placing faith in determination, confident that the striving is what counts
assured that a temperate motion is most sustainable.

And thus perched, I gaze on…

I do not often speed, or repel, fall or race, dive-in, jump-out, fly…
but for those once-in-a-while times, when I’m compelled to,
when I have an excess of momentum, or a need for some.

one little thing

Sometimes it’s the little things that can make your day. The sideways smile of a passerby, the lady in the elevator tapping her toes along to the music leaking out of her earbuds, catching your reflection in a window and being pleased with what you see, trying something new.

I’m all about knowing where I’m going… or guessing what’s next… or not having a clue what to do. I’m all about walking that line, and then skipping it, and even throwing a cartwheel in now and then.

I’m not going to be hung up on this any longer. It’s a free flow, it’s a free for all, and it’s got a lot to do with your perspective. And mine is inspired, tickled, dancing!

And that’s me. And it’s because that’s who I chose to be, even though sometimes I have to re-focus, remind myself, adjust the view.

So that’s what this is. So let’s begin.

raindrops

Your name hangs suspended in the voids of my consciousness

The thought of you filling every lapse in these distractions

It’s an abstract thing, I tell myself & could very soon be replaced with something else, though perhaps not somebody for a while.

A long while he said to me, & it stuck there – next to that name.

When the skies open and water fills the space between the buildings we’ve constructed (though I can take no credit), all the world runs for shelter. But I am freed.

Walking through times square was an unusual joy tonight, because for once the streets were empty, and I had the rare opportunity to choose my own pace.

Everyone had run for cover, and so I walked without having to side-step, step, step pause, move, hesitate… and what pleasure I found in it! in the cool water on my face & soaking into this very-newly-purchased non-white-shirt, overlaying a newly translucent lace tank top. I was glad to be wearing flipflops and to have many blocks ahead of me. And I tried not to let it be so obvious to the crowds of faces huddled in the shop windows and beneath awnings that I was looking for the deepest parts of the puddles to slosh through and I managed to restrain the laughter in my heart to a quiet smile on my face.