wonderingsonwonderings

[wonderingsonwonderings]

rupi and maya

(day fourteen) ____________________

I have always been moved by the profound gems you have both created. Seemingly simple or direct phrasing sends me on mental journeys -  the kind one might think are only accessed  through complex layers of words stacked together. Your wisdom - deep insights - shine through your every word. Even when there are just a few. A sentence. A thought. Thank you.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

I’ve never stolen a thing

(day thirteen) ______________________

As far as I can remember I’ve not stolen a thing -  not food, nor clothes, nor panty hose and definitely not a diamond ring.

Now if my memory serves me I’ve never stolen cash - not yen, nor euro, nope nilch zero and definitely no dine and dash.

If I recall correctly I’ve never stolen a car - not chevy, nor ford, not even a skateboard and definitely nothing from the cookie jar. In my humble opinion I will never steal a thing - not hearts, nor chords, not even pegboards nope, I say, not anything.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

I knew this when I took the vow

(day twelve - a triolet) __________________________

My husband snores beside me now his body twitching, to and fro I knew this when I took the vow my husband snores beside me now. I have no choice but to allow his roaring din, the status quo my husband snores beside me now his body twitching, to and fro.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

sunflower, a correction

(day eleven) _________________

The poor mammoth sunflower has quite a dim reputation as defined inside the book the 'language of flowers.’

HAUGHTIGNESS? Haughtiness, you say? Otherwise known as: ‘the appearance or quality of being arrogantly superior and disdainful.’

I think not.  The grand sunflower is more like  a humble matriarch overlooking the land, protecting the wee plants, watching the critters feeding the birds and bees delighting the humans - and keeping an eye out for rainbows, of course. I’d like to go back to London, hitch a ride on a horse-drawn carriage bump my way down a cobblestone street and march into the offices of George Routledge and Sons where I would explain to them the error of their ways and have them right this indisputable oversight.

For sunflowers are nothing but a joy a gift to behold, to receive, to stand in awe of. and anyone who is anyone knows this as an absolute fact.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

hydroponic hay(na)ku

(day ten) ________________

Today we began a backyard project

Tomorrow we’ll finish putting it together Soon it will grow us greens

How? using water a pump, gravity

Roots will be  nourished with nutrients

Leaves will grow strong and delicious

Which? kale, lettuce basil and chard

We are so excited and ready

[wonderingsonwonderings]

Doc

(day nine)

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[wonderingsonwonderings]

future greenhouse

(day eight)

___________________

I’m on the couch on the concrete slab where the greenhouse will be in two short weeks we will grow plants inside and also luxuriate on the couch on the concrete slab inside the greenhouse which will soon be

[wonderingsonwonderings]

Jane

(day seven)

_______________

Jane Goodall,  friend of chimps - has turned eighty-six.

Kindness in her eyes hope in her heart love in her intentions.

The world, the animals are better off because she was born, because she cares.

Here, here  dear Jane - to many more trips around the sun.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

A Monkey Named Bear

(day six)

___________________

I’m an elephant and my best friend was a monkey - still is, I suppose

We met on a green pasture he, on his back, lazing about by the stream staring up at the clouds as they danced upon the blue sky

“Hi, I’m Sigrid,” I gestured “Howdy,” he spoke - without turning his gaze immediately, we were best friends

Later, I came to know him as ‘Bear’ a nickname his mother gave him - he was a bit on the rounder side

We both liked our solitude and took to being the best of companions  often staring at the sky for hours - side by side - without a peep

Bear made it to twenty-seven years old twenty-four of those we spent together Now, almost seventy, I still miss him every day

[wonderingsonwonderings]

bluebirds in the sky with diamonds

(day five)

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a spontaneous marching band of lovedrums the heartbeat of the city a grand parade a flock of one hundred and eight bluebirds sing in unison overhead the scent of family barbecues wafts a perfect blue sky the early evening sunlight delivers its last blinding rays the band shakes the ground with steps all in unison hooting and hollering at seven p.m.a small taste of normalcy rests its hand upon our backs governor cuomo is a stealer of heart seven here in portland a few more horn-pops, and - the thundering music puts every last person to sleep where they stand namaste the chubby bluebirds make their way to the closest cloud and begin to snore in mid air where we join them - the hon hons, our eyes shutting getting cozy with new feathered friends we will wake up again in thirteen days and from that day forward all must hug while six feet apart om vardhanam namah bluebirds in the sky with diamonds a spontaneous marching band of love

[wonderingsonwonderings]

sea buddha

(day four) ______________

three robed wise minds walk upon a sea toward buddha’s head which floats atop the wavy waters offerings in their hands as they ascend their feet touch first his lips, then his nose, making their way  up to the space between his eyes along his forehead and to his head’s top from there the image blurs but one can only imagine the party they had

[wonderingsonwonderings]

spring fling

(day three) ______________

spring fling, in full swing earth’s rebirth nature’s collective -   reflective of the interconnected, sometimes neglected yet -  often protected by those who respect it

it’s all beginning, again - everyone out from your den familiar smells, ground swells duller days give way to technicolor displays come what may, you’re here to stay such glee, at last your quiet time has passed dormant but never forgotten,  from earth all is begotten hope is returning, roots keep churning

“Achoo!” - a sneeze trees at ease, recovering from their striptease who need’s TV? when you have expertise from the bees, the earth’s trustees honey makers, queen caretakers the bumbles buzz  with their sweet peach fuzz mother nature’s gentle giant  may you never be silent

flowers taking showers gaining rainbow superpowers hear a bird’s song, we all belong squirmin’ worms - on their own terms casting layers of fertilizer  so plants grow wiser -  shoot up like geysers organic synthesizers

out the window, critters on the go wee ones in tow daily referrals to the local squirrels who speed to the seed, is it greed or just need? an absurd hummingbird inspires written word sip sip, drip drip  goes the sugar water, the ants have new fodder

a bird’s nest, a manifest-o get out the backhoe we’ve got precious cargo plant starts, grow charts a garden is - fine art portraiture of nature with your very own nomenclature

“Ahoy,” says the bok choi grass, a pain in my ass; and such sass! greenhouse, the familiar auxiliar get dirty, get clean, it’s a natural caffeine propagate, now we wait - a clean slate patience, a rhythm - a practice  we forgot about this cactus! eggshells in moats because slugs don’t have boats

through a prism, a microorganism  spools of molecules,  nature is no fool not rushed, nor hushed ladybugs, count your spots -  please land in my pots - may we all connect the dots reminded to look in the nooks - of nature’s ancient books life can be tragic, thank god for this magic

[wonderingsonwonderings]

grandma’s porch

(day two) _____________

a screened-in porch my small self remembers it being so big maybe thirty by fifteen feet  almost the size of my entire nyc apartment sitting atop the garage surrounded by trees a special place, a magical space to laze about, sit, breathe, sip  with storm windows  for fall and winter enjoyment

grandma’s basket collection  maybe twenty baskets displayed purposefully on the wall abutting the kitchen an entry from the stairs that came from the backyard another entry from the kitchen it was easy to find one’s way there through one door or another a daily destination

an iron table with a glass top that could seat six,  where all meals could be enjoyed,  games played, stories told - and listened to farther toward the driveway, still on the porch at least two outdoor chairs, maybe three, for lounging side tables, coasters, books, rugs, chimes, artwork a metal rolling cart, plants, a watering can knick knacks settled in for the long haul

along with the den, this  was the heart of the house like a den, but where we could hear the birds chirp and the trees sway in the wind a gathering place, a cross breeze  perhaps a ceiling fan? I can’t recall, but it would have been nice because in Connecticut - it gets quite hot and humid in the summer months

I would like to live in a house one day with a screened-in porch like grandma’s porch perched high amongst the trees safe from stinging buzzers, food seekers, curious critters perhaps - now that I come to think about it - my life would be complete if I could live out my days  on such a porch.

[wonderingsonwonderings]

self-portrait in the time of quarantine

(day one) ________________________

It seems the time has come to clean the shower grout I’ve put it off long enough

Fumbling under the sink  the old toothbrush is hiding in plain sight waiting patiently to be rediscovered

I’ve never quite been here before with time to focus on each line the job seems laborious and distraction tugs

Reflecting on the shower, a vessel - one that holds space for impressive sounds, thoughts a white checkered cathedral 

It is deserving of a cleaning a deep scrub - a rebirth, to be seen again in all its glory

But in this new reality - one overflowing  with time to devote to this cause or that, I put down the toothbrush, again and again

And so the list grows, alas - why do today what can wait for tomorrow?