adjusting to whim
concrete world hard born again
the dream is dreamer

After failed rules, regs gone awry,
-values with no standard
-worth with no weight

we face, each the other, we face
screens and see reflections,
into the glass,
darkly
saying all our mind is willing to share,
if you care, or if I dare, you know?

-- I think of a dog friend I have;
-- she speaks her mind, with her eyes…
-- looks at me, as if she felt me think of her,
she wags her tail,
sometimes,
it seems such things are happening

just because I think
this or that
occurs to me and thus, to you, in your role,
in your time.

I notice, there, in my future, you do, too.

My life changed on a whim.
For no particular reason I watched a squirrel scurry up a tree.
He, or she (but not an it), stared at me.
They went branch to branch, stopping here and there to observe their new observer.

And how many times has this moment passed by, going unnoticed.
How many times had this animal instinct been drowned out by the clutter of daily life.

It wasn’t as though I had disregarded life before, but this was a fundamental awakening.
Before I could wrap my head around the simplicity of this divine happenstance,
I saw a cardinal swoop down on a fence-post a few feet away.
Again, I was enveloped in the novelty of this life.
I was in a state of dull wonder, looking at the vibrant red, the low swoop of the crown, the small of the body.

The trance broke, another squirrel scurried past me and up a tree.

I noticed this one bore a scar.
The hind leg was stripped of fur.
The skin wore the discoloration of freshly healed flesh.
They too, stared at me, perhaps perplexed that it was being watched.

I walked on.
Then finishing my morning walk, I noticed many things.
It was not just life that was intriguing me, it was the way the mundane began to scream at me.
I walked through abandoned lots, noting the way their roads would crack and crumble.
I noticed broken security cameras from long departed offices and buildings.
I noticed the broken marlin in the trash heap behind some house, no longer sporting its beak.
I noticed an old ford with a rubber rifle shell for an antenna and a load of wood planks in its bed.
I noticed a graffiti stick figure on the short bridge, some dystopian cave painting.

All of that to say, a hidden world became revealed.
A world that existed underneath my own, blurred by its previously perceived unimportance.
So now, I wonder what to do with this knowledge.
I think I’ll borrow its magic.
I think I’ll write down the bizarre normalcy that I see.
A running list of averages.
It is the beginning of something.

A door has opened.

autumn leaves
and nothingness
seasonal escapade
ache more for less

hills that whisper
junipers without whim
love without living
wounds without skin

mental imposter
corrupted serenity
flimsy enclosures
where art humanity

mountains that shake
hellebores without bloom
live without loving
oxygen unconsumed.

To focus on what self importance brings
That final blink will flick to nothing
At best a whim
Too late as time has slipped
It's skin has shed
Where youth has fled
The cycle of light and dark
A heavy step leaves a beaten path
What has been learnt and can be shared
Fairer heart
Friendship bare
Cleaner air
To offer greater care