Some Things

Some things you simply have

to do despite the odds of coming

out the other side intact and smiling.

You tell yourself that doing nothing

would make sense.  That it would be

impossible to ever really figure out if

what you hoped would be the outcome

really would.  That you could give yourself

a hundred reasons not to move in that direction.

And yet you’d never know for sure unless you

tried.  Would always have that doubt and

that regret to carry with you from that moment

on unless you tried.

Some things are too important just to lay aside

because the chance of ever winning would be slim.

Some things you simply have to do regardless.

My Job

What is there left for me to do?

Have I done it all, or done at least

as much as one could have

expected me to do?

I tell myself that’s not the case.

That even now there waits, not too

far off, some person who must hear

my voice or feel my touch so that

the next event can start.  That

there are thousands, maybe

millions of events not yet begun

that need me there to set them all

in motion.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am not

pivotal.  The world would keep

revolving even though I were not

there to give a push.  But there’s

a long, long series of events still

poised to happen that will not in fact

take place unless I also happen

to be there. 

So, in a sense, my job, if you could

call it that, is never done.  The tasks

awaiting me stretch out in one

unending line into the future.

Neighbors

There are at least five hundred

to a thousand trees outside my house

that I have never paid attention to.

Too busy doing other things, I guess,

to look at each and every tree

that’s there and see what’s happening.

But it’s important that I should because

they’re neighbors, and neighbors

should be there for one another.

So some day soon, I’ll go outside

and introduce myself to each and every

one of them.  Ask if there is anything

they need.  Tell them, if they ask,

that the only thing I need from them

is simply that they be there, waiting

quietly.

Letting Loose

I’m not quite ready yet to let you

go.  I’m working hard on letting

loose my grasp on things, but

this fine silver net that I have

wrapped around you is still there

in spite of all my recent efforts.

Is there some training course that

I should take to learn the fine art

of detachment?  To learn to be

with you but let you be, without

constraint?  For years I’ve been

conditioned to acquire many things.

For years I would exalt in finding

and possessing lovely objects.

But nothing that I think I have belongs

to me, and certainly not you.

Your Mark

No need to make your mark.  To shine

so brightly that the shades in the

surrounding houses must be drawn.

For if you’re no one, then it’s possible

for everyone to be your friend because

you’re not a threat.  No one will hound

you to your death because you are not

news.  You’ll have the time to do exactly

what you want because no one will care

enough to interfere and try to take control.

You can enjoy your life, and quietly

accomplish what you want.  The years

will pass with deep, deep satisfaction,

and they will never even know that you

were there.

Time Waster

I seem to waste incredible

amounts of time.  As if

an infinite supply of hours,

days, and weeks were there

for me to squander any way

I wished.

I dawdle when I should be

up and moving.  Procrastinate

when just a modicum of focused

energy would see it done

and finished.  Daydream as

the deadlines come and go.

I know, of course, that time

is running out.  That there is

precious little left for me,

and you, to spend on anything

but truly special people

and occasions.  But knowing

and believing, as some people

like to say, can really be two

different things.

I like to think that anytime I want

I can insert my card, withdraw

another forty, fifty years of time.

Even give you some to use

as you see fit.

Breathe

Today I plan to breathe.

That is, to pay attention to the way

I breathe.  The inhalation and

the exhalation.  The inhalation

and the exhalation. 

This may require hours.  Maybe

days.  And even then, there is

no guarantee that I will get it

right.  So clear my calendar.

And disconnect my phone.  No

telling when I will have time

again for other things.

My Place

My place these days is not

with them, or even you, but

elsewhere.  It’s that time.

Moving up the mountain,

slowly, singing.  Dancing

on the grassy plains,

delirious with joy.  Wading

in the oceans, barely able

to stand upright, laughing. 

Lying on the beaches,

baking in the sand.

Nothing that I do now,

as I mosey here and there

across this rich, forgiving

Earth, means anything to

anyone but me.  We live,

we die, and someone else

moves in to take our place.

Everything is just as every-

thing should be.

Hanging Around

Some loves are never finished.

Even after you say they are, they

aren’t.  Even when there’s nothing

ever happens after that, they’re

still there, drifting in the cosmos.

The Earth could crack wide open

and every star explode, and they

would still be hanging around,

waiting.

Waiting

Some people spend the better part

of life just waiting for somebody else

to make a move.  Not just hours or

days of waiting, which is bad enough,

but years.

They put their lives on hold, thinking

that, with love and patience, they will

finally prevail.  But later, after so much

time has passed, they still are waiting,

and discover then that, even if they

wanted to, they could not ever give

up doing that.  Their fantasy has infiltrated

every part of who they are, and they

no longer know what’s real.  Each day

is like the one before, routine and

disappointing.  The only thing they’re

good at now is waiting.

Finding Dinner

Move over now, not later, mister

alligator, please.  I’ve a need to slide

into the water there beside you, my

eyes and nostrils showing just above

the slime, my mind ferociously intent

on finding dinner.

My world is much too complex anymore,

you see, and what you offer is a simple,

swamplike remedy that focuses on

just the basics.

The Moment

If I could get you totally involved

in the moment, you would light up

like a carnival at night. You would jump

around, and up and down, your arms and legs

swinging, yelping like some crazed

coyote.  And your eyes would shine.

I need to get some sign from you,

which could just be a spreading

of the feathers maybe, or a special

dance-like strut, that says the time is right. 

That you’re just about to give yourself

the luxury of letting go.

How Thoughtful

So you don’t wish to encourage

me.  Would not want me to get

the wrong idea.  Need to draw

the line, that elusive yet ever-present

line, somewhere.  How thoughtful

of you, always thinking of my welfare,

never wishing even now to give me pain.

Together

For some strange reason, we are joined

at the middle, with our arms and legs

moving every which way, but not ever

in the same direction.  I guess we have

this idea that one day we’ll synchronize

and set off toward some distant point we

both agree on.  Do this sort of three-

legged dance toward Shangri-La.

They Have Not Changed

There are places that I cannot ever be

without the thought of you as part of what

they are.

The look, the feel, the smell of them

remind me always of when we were

there, the two of us, together.

They are forever what you changed

them into as we walked and talked

and loved each other then.

They have not changed.

I have not changed.

And you, the one who

once upon a time

brought all of this about,

will always be the person

you were then.

My Only Talent

There’s only one thing I can give

you, maybe, that you need.  Of

all the many things you think you

have to have, I possibly can give

you one.

It’s nothing you can measure on

a scale, like fame or fortune.  Its

value to you will depend, I guess,

on what has happened to you in

your life so far. 

My only talent, and the gift I have

to give, if you would like it, is the gift

of helping you feel good about yourself.

I Go Away

I leave.  From time to time, I go away

from you to someplace else.

Soar out over trees and mountains

sometimes; look down at the strangely

patterned landscapes.  Walk down

misted streets alone through tiny, fog-

enshrouded villages that lie against

the sea, and listen to the sound of

footsteps on the cobblestones.  To

these and other places, other times

of fact and fancy, needing to make

journeys now and then to here and

there.  Needing to strike some sort

of balance across uneven days and

nights, and to adjust my tilted, wob-

bling world.

But I come back.  Always I return to

you, who are my center.  I leave, but

I remember you are there, and I come

back.