is this it?
the life we were promised?
we look past the present, we say that we're honest
is this it?
the great romance novel?
a happy ending sappy ending a villain who's awful?
is this it?
our legacy? our time?
the hate the love the good the bad the justice and the crime?
if this is it
where did our time go?
fast and then slow, fast, slow, fast, slow
is this it?

To those who are gone.
We’ll carry your legacy.
To honor your life.

I reach back through memory and mortality
To inspire that which I am to become
Exciting the bones of my ancestors
Their feathers of black and red and white
The golden rays of dead and declining stars
Deflecting off the face of the moon
"Is life still real if it echoed?"
"Yeeess," they exhale from eons past.
The first and only answer to an ageless urge
Stretching to me, through me
Filling the unfathomable empty
With intimacy and evidence
New issues to nurture
Most seeds remain in the shadows
Dreaming of a shift in the design
Stardust progressing toward potential
Again and again and again
And again the bond is broken
And refashioned
I am remembered
In unsettled frenzy, my soul awakens
Setting alight my future

He spoke the language of birds
of pickle ****
and lichen
and ailerons
and shutter speeds

Where I saw a blackbird with a spot of red on a wing

He saw Agelaius Phoeniceus a  passerine bird of the family  Icteridae found in most of  North America and much of  Central America

His mind and mouth were full of facts and figures
about wind
and lift
and tides
and the right time to plant and to harvest tomatoes

Music and science were things to be dissected
and perfected
and each thing was measured
and calculated
and intentional
like the metronome I played with on the piano in the spare room

I did not always understand him
I did not always try to learn

a kid dabbling in punk rock and drawn to graffiti will
I found it hard to relate to someone so exacting

But while I do not remember his laugh
I do remember his joy
at explaining the circuitry in a handmade airplane
or the minutiae of the wondrous geometric cellular structure of a pine cone

A hike in the sloughs and I ran ahead
while he kneeled and saw a tiny marvel, a flower or a lizard hidden by my hurry, tucked behind a leaf and revealed by his slow and patient attention

He taught us to see
To look close
To take the time to do it well

And while we bristled at the pocket knife,
cutting candy into enragingly tiny mouthfuls

he taught us to savor
and make the moments last

He never rushed a photograph
He never hurried though a museum
He never pushed you out after dinner
He sat
and listened
and truly saw you
in focus.

While his eyes blurred with age
And his ears failed him
He never stopped taking in the moment and he never stopped his ever and perfect focusing
On the thing in front of him, perhaps small but made large by his attention

The last time I saw him
he clearly
and directly looked me in the eye
and in his way
gave a blessing
passing on his focus

“Send those kids my love. Take care of them.”

And in those words
I understood him.

Why do I want to
Learn Tibetan
Why do I want to
Lear dazongka
Why do I want to learn
Sherpa
And uyger
To connect to my
Ancestors.

I think foolish best describes an intellectual's ways
I know it sounds ironic, but I'll enlighten you on what the world says Or rather what the world thinks  

See, I grew up thinking that reading was learning  
And learning was knowledge
And that knowledge was born from logic
And finally that logic was wisdom  

Is it just me or did we all grow up in a society that was blinkered to view wisdom as education
With our minds blinded to see intellect as knowledge
Thinking knowledge is power, power is money and money is...well...everything
Well, money does answer all, but it is not everything  
You see, mankind's intelligence never satisfies
The more learned we become the more the world slips away
The more knowledge we possess
The more the world becomes complex  

We believe ourselves to be the I AM
With the power to know everything
We seek wisdom in philosophy
But it only makes us realize we are fools
That the wise don’t exist on earth
Unless we seek wisdom in the great I AM
And forget that earthly knowledge is power  

Well, knowledge is power, but WISDOM
Wisdom is ETERNITY
It is the eternal life that we're all working towards
The life that that thief on the cross had to look forward to
Only because he was wise enough to recognize his salvation and his Saviour  
So, dear stewards, the best that you can give your children is not a Harvard or Oxford kind of education
The most valuable gift is not the concept of making money  

The best that you can give to those in your care is wisdom
This wisdom is the knowledge of a man
Who abandoned His own kingdom
To die for foolish simple men  

A man who stood before so called high judges
Yet He was the Most High
A man who humbled the proud
And used the foolish things to shame them
For His word says that even His foolishness
Is greater than our wisdom
For His thoughts are not our thoughts
Neither are his ways our ways  

So, all I'm saying is
The most valuable legacy that you can leave
Is the knowledge of the One with all the wisdom,
The wisdom to choose God
For we only find wisdom when we realize, we are nothing but fools before Him  

Miss Fit

someday
there will be those who come after us
soft boys and tough boys
rough girls and fluff girls
and every shade of other in between
someday
they will sit where we have sat
and talk of what we said
and we will hand our world over to them
and they will take it
this fragile trembling beast
(we called it earth)
and it will be their world
and it will not be the same world
this earth-thing, this legacy
relies on every story
every creature that has ever walked across its skin
and I
for one
will tread lightly
softly
and paint flowers instead of trampling them

I vow to never let destiny get the best of me,
Life expectancy threaten me through questions of legacy,
Mentally wrestle me, never envious jealousy,
I'll measure every breath and beat and take them to the Nth degree.