Thursday, July 21, 2022

Forest Silence

The silence of forest isn’t

absence of sound. Rather the sound

belongs. Wind rustling leaves, a

woodpecker’s thrumming, chorus

of tree frogs or crickets, bird song.


Nothing out of place.

I breathe.

My feet crunch leaves lightly.

I try to belong, let myself be wild.

Thursday, July 14, 2022


Being saved from death is

not the same as saving

a life. What good is it

to survive, if you don’t live?

I don’t mean, of course, having

a pulse, breath, the daily

maintenance of eating, sleeping.


I mean feeling wind on your skin,

savoring chocolate, a glass of wine,

the wonder of seeing a sunrise

or a dear friend’s face.


I mean, of course, the way

your heart beats wildly

with joy when something thrills

you, or beats with fear

when you risk yourself or

feel pain. You see, living is not

playing safe, staying behind fences

or locked doors. That may let you

survive, but already you’re dead.


Life wants to be lived,

   out loud,

      no holds barred,

         all in.


when death does come, it comes--

an exclamation point at the end

of life’s story, a cause for