Home Alone

 

Loneliness

All those moth-bitten cliches

about being alone

and being lonely.

Like,

"the last word in lonesome

is me..."

And the equally moth-mangled

conventional wisdom

about never being alone.

"When you walk through the storm,

hold your head up high..."

...and all that.

Which is true?

Are we ever alone?

Are we never alone?

They can't both be true.

It is objectively true

that you are never alone.

Even when there are

no other humans around

with whom you can interact,

there is nature

and your own thoughts

and music,

books,

television,

the ever-lovin' internet...

to name a few

ready companions.

But sometimes

the sense and sensations

of being alone

and bereft

are subjectively

overwhelming.

When you are lonely,

there is scant comfort

in cliches

and conventional wisdom,

and hungry moths

are no company.

We must learn

to be at home

with ourselves,

with our thoughts,

with our memories,

with our imagination,

with our faith.

We are not alone,

but we must learn

to be at home

alone.

A Toast

Here’s a toast

to life and living

to love and laughter

to seeing, to hearing

to giving and receiving

Lift a glass

to family and friends

to acceptance and belonging

to gifts, to talents

to harmony and understanding

Cheers! and Hear, Hear!

for joy and happiness

for peace and inspiration

for creativity, for passion

for positivity and optimism

This toast we raise

while counting out the frailties of our years

while listening to the music of the spheres

while measuring the value of our tears

while facing down the spectres of our fears

Here’s to us, to all of us,

the scattered and the gathered

family of creation

and to the persistent checkers

of our past, present, and future

Follow the Wandering Clock

The world

is both

topsy and turvy;

spinning in every direction

at once.

We cannot tell

if we are

clock- or counterclock-

wise,

but it sure feels

like all the clock

has been spun

dry

and all the wise

has been abandoned

and all we are left with

is loose change

on the counter.

Yes,

change is loose

and

there may not be

enough cope

left in our mechanisms.

The shock

has bid farewell to

the awe.

The doctors

may have the final spin

in the worldwide

wheel of forsakenness.

Inevitable

the sad repeating refrain

of our dull haiku.

Forest For The Trees

Dense thicket

Can't see

Eyes wide

Twisting

Turning

Lost

Wondering

Fame's Swipe

What is fame?

A fleeting dab from history’s brush;

a jolting jab from the public’s fickle attentions;

a startling stab from the dagger-crusted eyes of time.

We all bear some fame

among the momentary circle of our societies.

Then the days swoop in and carry us away like cornered rats.

An echo;

a ripple;

a whisper;

then eternity.