Big lake. Small town. Deep forest. Sinuous river. The phenomena of young life passed into memory - fragmented and culled. Swimming in fresh water fishing from Mac's dock. I lay on warm sand beaches beneath summer cumulus clouds floating by and with them going to another place in time. We ran the thin strand past the lighthouse and foghorn over the dunes to see the town, across open water in low horizon, lit by the lights of home. There lived those who knew me - a child, a boy, a young man. We went to school, played ball, rode our bikes and tossed our papers. I worked in a main street store after school and into the night. All of this and these were as once I lived by a lake and in a town near a forest and a solemn river. As I live now they are gone. ____________________________________________________________________________ Portland, Oregon - August 22, 2021
Impermanence
Continuous Creation
Our lives form each day
in acts of continuous creation
ever dissolving into the past
moment by moment –
conceived as a verdant garden in spring.
Lives opening as flowers in a meadow
beautiful for a time
folding to close as twilight comes
and in the night bend back to earth.
Each day something new
stumbled upon in old growth
hidden beneath broad leaves
from the past, forgotten.
Each moment a new being
as in the garden on the first day –
a sweet morsel satiating
deep and fragrant longings
opening as tulips, apple blossoms
loveliness in scents of wine
wintergreen and myrrh.
Portland, Oregon – May 16, 2017
Photo is my own, taken May 7, 2017, in our garden.
In Cascadia 