Just when I start thinking I have a handle on this thing, the pan gets so hot I've got to put it under the faucet to run cold water on it. Twice burnt, learnt.

New experiences beget new learning, leaning toward a jig-saw with the straight-line edges filling in. The beginnings of parameters. Vague outlines missing a couple a corners maybe, but a flimsy framework making the next puzzle piece a little more obvious.

Blue sky on top. Brown ground below. A lot of muddle in the middle maybe, but not altogether impossible anymore. Nothing black. A future filling in with hopes and schemes. Plans and dreams and playful fun for taking up the slack.

His Purpose is to Take Our Fears

I figured he'd lost his track in some museum or collection long ago, so I've been speaking quietly once a week, telling him all my fears, so I could leave them with him and me safe.

Like us all, he needs his work. You can see, he's absorbed a lot of nasties over the years. A small skull on his back and I don't even want to know what all the grodty stuff hanging off him is —
chicken blood, millet, et al.

 

Half-step stumbles keep me alert. Watch my steps. Eyeses on the prizes. Watchful wakeful wandering and wonder, too. Three steps forward and only one back. My walking mile every day, green visions along the way.

More me than I could earlier take. Smooth down the learning bumps. Check back the double-takes. Take back the mistakes. Dancing alone under the fulling moon. Cleanse the crystals. Sense the miscues. Singing quietly to myself.

Being alone hurts less. Friends mean more. Keeping advice to myself till asked for. Carrying my own burdens. Burning less. Anger mysteriously disappears into the night, and morning light crackles the dawn.

Starting to take on the steps before I see the path. Coasting down hills and freeway ramps. Falling into sleep slow and waking — no worries yet. A better day, a bigger moon.

More learning coming soon.

 

 

The Best of JR's Poetry is on a whole nother page.