A Very Unusual Visitor

I stepped away from my favorite reading perch

for a moment when

my cat snuggle buddy found

a tiny fly-like insect 

His body was almost transparent except

for tiny bulging black eyes

I saved him from the feline menace and

he spent several hours with me

exploring my surface anatomy

extensively and finally

jumped onto the page I was reading

He remained there almost motionless for

nearly twenty minutes

I believe as the ancient Hindu texts teach

that the small creature has a soul like mine

Perhaps he was aware of it too

In any event I relished reading with this

miniscule companion

Rabbit in the Grass

An early morning in summer

Sky clear but air heavy

In the dewy grass a lone rabbit feeds slowly, contentedly

in my back yard

My hunter cat notified me of his presence

I sipped my tea inside so as not to disturb him

I remembered when he was so small

he could fit into my tea cup

Now he is full grown, about the size

of a cat with beautiful light brown fur, large black eyes  and

ears so large they would give a hare pause

As I gazed at him, I recalled a similar morning 

some years ago when I was able to walk

I  was ambling along a nature trail when

I heard a piercing scream nearby

As I reached the area a falcon

was tearing apart a freshly caught rabbit 

Such things are part of nature's balancing act,

but they never cease to cut me to the heart 

Back in the kitchen I slowly pushed myself up

and began my small unsteady steps into

the living room, picked up purse and

car keys, and left for still another doctor's visit

A quick brutal death versus a painful lingering one 

If I had a choice, I think I would choose the former

No, I must take that back

Watching my body deteriorate slowly has

yielded priceless gifts of spirit

I now see with different eyes formed by 

suffering

It tore away at my ego, my false self, and

gave me a glimpse of my pristine true self 

My new eyes discerned  what the rest of my

life will entail,  despite the pain and myriad losses

Acceptance, compassion, and  the deep knowledge 

that I am truly loved 

Keeper of the Winds

On a soft summer eve I beheld

old Aeolus pursing his lips and 

softly puffing small spurts of wind like

a cigar connoisseur savoring an Arturo Fuente

I was mesmerized in a timeless interlude

dreaming of Odysseus with his bag of winds,

a gift of the blowzy old god to sail home, but

his crew tore it open, fating all to a long voyage

My loss was less acute than his

The cumulus cloud just drifted away

and my whimsical reverie evaporated

like those pent up clouds in the infamous bag

I couldn't let go of that image,

a huge Falstaffian face in the sky

This product of my imagination 

gave me pause

What could be lurking in my subconscious?

A Jungian archetype, of course,  but

why surface now?

Or, perhaps I crave an Arturo Fuente?

Birthday, June 11

"If my mind gets trapped inside/Just roll me to my sky-wide view/Where I will feast on cumulous and light/And tell you that art with just my eyes."
  -  Jane Krainin,  with irrepressible spirit, anticipating the toll of ALS

Last year's birthday was a tranquil interlude
on a long circuitous journey
Now I walk on glass
Each step gingerly taken while
my hands clench the walker

I think about what the future holds
as a degenerative illness erodes body
and mind, but not spirit, never spirit
not that it doesn't dim occasionally
But, it's uncanny how a gift of grace
always appears
Jane's wondrous poem this time

I will walk slowly now, better to
see the world through quiet eyes,
time to converse with the ignored ones,
the old, sick, and homeless
and then to ponder all I have seen
with my new eyes

I will do my best to emulate Jane,
trying to make the last part of my life
a benediction
I have no doubt that this is my mission now,
my work of art