"The 411"

My photo
A small, luminous portal, somewhere on the western edge of the Atlantic, northern hemisphere, 3rd rock from the Sun
When I was about 7 years of age, I stood in the middle of Robin's Field Primary School's playground on a glorious, cloudless, autumn day in London. Gazing up, a burst of ceruleun sky seared through me. I had been awakened from a deep, protective state of numb. Future decades jerked me back & forth on the teeter- totter of life. Great ups, miserable downs, nanoseconds of breathtaking joys, infinite hours deep inside pain. A couple of years ago, I began to hit the mercurial Wall o' Menopause. True to self, I went at it, head first, in a pool of icy hot sweat, the proverbial sledge hammer. Spiritually & emotionally, I was drained. Empty. As in "this well was D-R-Y." Of everything. Time passed & I began waking up again - just like on the playground. In reality, I must say, I really like this side of 50. "The best is yet to come ... "

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

"This morning"


Raymond Carver

This morning was something. A little snow
lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear
blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green,
as far as the eye could see.
Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went
for a walk -- determined not to return
until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I passed close to some old, bent-over trees.
Crossed a field strewn with rocks
where snow had drifted. Kept going
until I reached the bluff.
Where I gazed at the sea, and the sky, and
the gulls wheeling over the white beach
far below. All lovely. All bathed in a pure
cold light. But, as usual, my thoughts
began to wander. I had to will
myself to see what I was seeing
and nothing else. I had to tell myself this is what
mattered, not the other. (And I did see it,
for a minute or two!) For a minute or two
it crowded out the usual musings on
what was right, and what was wrong -- duty,
tender memories, thoughts of death, how I should treat
with my former wife. All the things
I hoped would go away this morning.
The stuff I live with every day. What
I've trampled on in order to stay alive.
But for a minute or two I did forget
myself and everything else. I know I did.
For when I turned back I didn't know
where I was. Until some birds rose up
from the gnarled trees. And flew
in the direction I needed to be going.