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Within my garden
Springtime announced in glory
Soon the petals fall
Pursuing Progress
Within my garden
Springtime announced in glory
Soon the petals fall
As the daylight fades
Thus day becomes memory
Glorious springtime
In this daylight
Work flows from fingers
Will the rains clean the street?
Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.
Not far from my home
This plant bursting with spring’s life
Season’s transition
In this raging age
Few value tranquility
I still seek it’s grace
Facing down chaos
Though I spend time focusing
New demands arise