clearly fresh…



To see clearly,
not needing a drink
or pill or puff
of any pipe
to know I’m alive. To come home, peel off sandals and step onto
the cool tile floor needing only
the rush of water over strawberries

I picked myself and then a knife to trim the dusty green heads
from each one,
to watch them
gleam cleanly
in a colander
in a patch of sun
near the sink.

James Crews
From Bluebird
April 15



To move Cleanly. Needing to be Nowhere else.
Wanting nothing From any store. To lift something You already had
And set it down in
A new place.
Awakened eye
Seeing freshly.
What does that do to
The old blood moving through
Its channels?
Naomi Shihab Nye from You & Yours

complete forgiveness



Dear Q
I am sorry I turned my back on you.
Frustrated you beyond measure by not listening to your sage advice.
You shared the data needed to be my proxy.
You shared to keep me alive in the pandemic.

I forgive you for claiming that I do what I want and not what my family advises.
That I choose my agenda, in spite of you.
Instead you ask me to avoid acting impetuously.
Many friends have asked me
“not to be a steam-roller.”
“not to mow them down”.
Wish I could weed out this unruly character defect.

Yes, I promise to think before jumping.
To imagine you warning me.
To hesitate and consider the wiser side.
To embrace my sage daughter and my sage family
and BLEND.

Then we will both know complete forgiveness
Believe it is given
And act to its rhythm

Healing: vision-receive-give





give love–whole-healing……

Definition #92 Ecstasy


From Jack London
In The Call of the Wild, he wrote:

“There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise.

And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.

This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame;

it comes to the soldier, war-mad in a stricken field and refusing quarter;

and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the old wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight.


Before the deadline:

Pinch the possibilities!

Squeeze the seconds!

Fashion flickers!

After the deadline:

Exhale elan!

Fancy freshness!


Moments all.

None split asunder:

Undercurrents grow

To undercurrents.

A line is dead

But life-alive.

And here we are


By Jeanne Poland


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