On the cold days
I’m reminded
That most days
Life is a struggle
A struggle
To stay warm
And keep fed
To love
And be loved
A beautiful struggle
On the cold days
I’m reminded
That most days
Life is a struggle
A struggle
To stay warm
And keep fed
To love
And be loved
A beautiful struggle
Dawn comes softly
In pastels
With a light wind
I breathe in the moment
Then hold on
To what I don’t want to let go
This peace
This sanctuary
This moving on
A quiet
I have not allowed myself
To experience
In a long time
Time
In my body
Letting the world be
Just as it is
Beautiful
And dark
Tranquil
And distressed
But just for this moment
Beautiful
And tranquil
That is enough
For the dawn
I arrive at the end
Of a rocky path
Where a beacon indicates
A vast unknown
Beneath a misty guile
But a light of no small promise
Beckons from a distance
My faith tells me
Is surmountable
Perhaps it will be a smooth sail
On a quiet sea
Or a road no less arduous
Than the sharp-stoned path
Which bloodied my feet
Since many miles ago
No matter
The destination seems bright
And beautiful enough
While I have covered greater distances
With less hope
And no small despair
It was the last full day in India. The smoke had been chokingly thick for the entire month I’d spent in the north, and Delhi hadn’t even been the worst of it. Still, I’d found a decent rate at a decent hotel (some small comfort in exchange for the respiratory distress) on the edge of Old Delhi’s fantastical Chandni Chowk markets for the final days before my flight home.
There is nothing so beautiful
As a moment offered in whole
To the act of creation
Except perhaps
One given
To love
Words arranged in verse
Form a matrix of possibility
An author’s intentions
A reader’s interpretations
Layers deep
Miles wide
All this also present
In a single word such as
Aum
Love
God
Beauty
Perfection
Each a poem with all the
Subtle renderings and possibilities of
Angelou
Frost
Dickinson
Shakespeare
Plath
The final meaning rests solely
And rightfully with the reader
An ornate lamp hangs
In a gentle place
There to illuminate
When darkness falls
A beautiful ornament
In the clear light of day
Would create a spectacle
In the dim hues of night
And now I wish
I had seen this room
Bathed in the prismatic glow
Which gives shape to the dark
Every culture
Every person
Knows beauty
In their own way
I remind myself
Try to find
Beauty’s heart
In every way
That is the place
Where we are all one
That is the place
From which flows love
The thing about travel is
Something so everyday
As a group of friends
Hanging out on a street corner
Seems extraordinary…
…even beautiful
The thing about extended travel is
Once familiarity renders
The extraordinary as everyday
The sense of beauty in the mundane
Remains…
…and travels home with me
Hers was an exquisite beauty
Not the kind to command
Covers or runways
That puts a name
Up in lights or lead a headline
Her beauty commanded a second look
The kind you missed on a first take
And yes, it was there on the surface
But more, it ran deep
In her bearing
In the way she made others
The center of her world
Her smile flowed
From every feature of her being
To receive one was to be blessed
The first time
She gave me that gift
It was through a tangle of locks
Tossed about in the wind
The sound of breakers far below
My heart knew only one person
In the entirety of existence
And it took years to convince it
That there were other smiles in the universe
Some time after I’d grown beyond the desire to possess her
Our group of friends retraced that old road trip
And on this same point, through tousled locks
She gave me again that heart-stirring smile
But this time said
“I think I am falling in love with you.”