Monthly Archives: January 2017

A Bird Call, A Meditation Song

A bird call
a meditation song
words spoken to the sea

spinning in the high winter’s sky
where the pelicans fly
and the hawk and dove and osprey

singing their tune
which I cannot translate
yet reminding me to breathe and let be

Uttered forth among ocean waves
these affirmations floating to you
and cascading back to me.

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Bathing In

I need to bathe in the music of the soul

That which is beautiful and free
without sadness

I don’t want to bathe in the bloated belly
of discontentment and sorrow
and hopelessness

There is a light out there
that shines brighter than any
chasm is dark

And it doesn’t blind
but leads and fulfills and carries
when the void does come

Bathe with me in this

Engulf in the sweet luminous sound
of all that is good in this world.

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Communication Disconnect

Where has all this communication at the tips of our fingers brought us?

I’ve always been a proponent of texting. I’ve had six conversations at once doing this. Texting and instant messaging has kept many of my relationships alive, especially with those who live miles and miles away.

But recently I’m becoming a bit annoyed and confused at all this ability to instantly “connect” with others. I’m feeling lonelier than ever.

Texts can be misconstrued. And the fact that everyone has a phone and seems to be on them all the time doesn’t bode well when someone doesn’t text you back in a proper time frame. It leaves a lot of unanswered questions and self over-analyzation.

“Did I say too much? Not enough? Is their phone working properly? Are they dead in a ditch somewhere?”

Two days or two weeks later you finally get a response. And there’s no mention of a hey I’m sorry it took so long to get back to you, excuse excuse excuse.

It’s enough to drive you insane.

Not that I haven’t done the same. And for that I am truly sorry. My excuse is that I was either in the throws of single-working-momdom or I did not know how to respond to you so I just sat on it for a few days hoping the words would eventually reach my brain.

I’m not saying I hate texting. I’m a writer so it’s a lot easier for me in most instances to type out what I want to say rather than find the words straight from my head.

I just don’t know if this ability to connect instantly is helping us or hurting us. I’m half thinking of doing an experiment where I only actually talk to people on the phone.

There are things you can detect from the human voice. Like if they sound distracted, bored, distant, excited, nervous, cheerful. But there are also those empty spots of uncomfortable silence. Or even worse when you talk over each other and can’t hear what the other is saying. And even more people like me who don’t know how to end the conversation without dragging it on and on.

And what about the dying art of letter writing? The last time I received a letter was at least 3 years ago. It came from a friend overseas. And when this friend came to live state side our messages paled in comparison to the lengthy, thought-out detailed letters we’d written.

I guess it boils down to the age-old manners rule of do unto others what you’d prefer done to you. Try not to leave people in the dark. Do your best to communicate. And stay off your phone when you’re actually face to face with someone. And keep your arms from crossing in front of you and your eyes from blinking too much…

What are your thoughts on electronic communication? Is it helping or hurting?

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A Rare Cold Day

It’s a rare cold day here
one meant for staying close in
and keeping the biting breeze out
Or perhaps to face the bite
let it rattle your bones for a bit
then come inside and take a warm sip

There’s tea on the stove
coffee in the carafe
Sun is gleaming on the chilly
palm fronds outside
But my couch is empty
too many cups in the cupboard

January can be an icy stare
smoke-filled rooms with nowhere
to breathe
Resolutions already falling away
A need for connection
but the line is dead

Suit up and carry on
it’s just one more day
one rare cold day
But with the birds flight
south-wind, still
a struggle to let go within.

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