is dedicated to
Peter Marra ~ Diego Siero ~ Mercedes Webb-Pullman and the staff at NBH, Las Vegas NV
for sticking with the fliegendemensch behind the curtain at DM through the storm-tossed waves of their journey...
♥ ♠ ♦ ♣
after Naomi Shihab Nye
“Everything has a life of its own”
~ NSN, “So Much Happiness”
I’ve connections to both places, both images, both Central Park & Rockaway; so much of my
Past remains alive, pink December blossoms, New Orleans; grubby Fillmore East, 2nd Avenue.
Like whirlwinds, dust storms, drenching rain in the cactus-spjned desert, memory real as
Synapses firing, as intention realized, as the deepest well singing in triumph, in completion
The first six months were of rehabs & hospitals, as she grew progressively weaker,
Mid-July we took her off the ventilator, yet consciousness remains; maybe a Buddhist bardo,
Maybe pure positive energy, maybe the unknown heaven the rabbis insist is there;
She understands all now, will probably be back; another lifetime, more work yet to do
My life the easier, softer way, these days, writing this poem, 4 am desktop, Saturday night
These days I tell myself that my depression’s a choice, so when it rises I struggle beyond it
Caught so very often in the suffering, the apparent meaninglessness; yet I’ve seen the glorious
Colors of new dawn breaking, over the beach, the City, over this country; we’re not done yet:
Trust: in the silence. In the unseen benevolence. In the small choices each of us makes,
For the good. It adds up, it matters. A long way from enlightenment; yet on the right road.