Emptied fruit crates
For a mattress
Battered and broken stool
For a pillow
A bed unfit
For the delicate senses
And sensibilities
Of a princess
Ah
But for a king?
Ample slumber
In deepest repose
Emptied fruit crates
For a mattress
Battered and broken stool
For a pillow
A bed unfit
For the delicate senses
And sensibilities
Of a princess
Ah
But for a king?
Ample slumber
In deepest repose
Click a pic
From a speeding taxi
Crossing Jakarta
Months later
While editing
Curiosity piqued
Google “KETOPRAK”
Now I wish we’d stopped
And tried one
A journey
Once begun
Never ends
Overlapping
Those that follow
With belated discovery
But no regrets
For just another
Missed opportunity
On a new day
Of a new year
I remind myself
Do the work
To stay focused
On what’s important
Too close
Lost in detail
Context forfeit
Insight dubious
Caution advised
I paddle out onto the calm sea
Despite the listless surf
Rather, no
Because of it
I love the thrill of catching a wave
The feel of the board cutting through the water
The acceleration as the curl builds
And, yes
Even the tumult
When the sea punishes me
For my errors
But I love too
The moments between waves
The calm quiet introspection
Gentle swells sway me
An ocean hammock in the breeze
Take a deep breath
And another
Feel my resting heart beat
In a state of peace
Here am I
Rapt in my own presence
In time with the rhythm
Of nature
Some days
I prefer these long deep breaths
Over the exhilaration
Of a racing heart
So I paddle out
Sit with my being for a while
Then paddle back in
At peace with the world
And myself
Reach for me, my friend
From the gloom besetting you
I have light to spare
Such was her presence
She left eddies in the world
Long after she left
Golden glory of sunrise
Remind me
Existence is a miracle thrice
That there is something to observe at all
That there is something to observe it all
And that I am both those somethings
Snow dusts the hills
Rice flour on sourdough crust
Endless patterns
In burnished bronze
No subject
No object
No meaning
The explorer’s
Essential pleasure
Existential textures
I wait my turn
Impatient
For the opportunity
To challenge
The sky
Leave the storm sodden Earth
Rise into the promise
Of light
Breaking through the cloud
But why?
Why wait?
Is not the sky
Beckoning?
Are these not wings
To lift me?
There is no control tower
No queue for the runway
My hand rests
On the throttle
All that’s needed
Is the will to engage
The engines