Month: December 2022

“And I Will Always Love You”

the Whitney

of my youth

is on the big screen

in the winter

of 2022

TL

For the Love of Books

the act

of reading

a page

to its bitter-

sweet

end

is a sort

of journey

one takes

within

long or short

there is movement

however slight

one becomes

what one becomes

a traveler …

I love this

there is something

otherworldly

about it

to hold a book

tangible

in one’s hands

and open it up

to a page

and silently read

its written words

absorbing its inner

thoughts

and images

the feeling

of it all

of what it has to say

to convey

interpreted in a myriad of ways

and how

one wrote it

in the solitude of the mind

in ancient times

or present day

yesterday or tomorrow

a writer’s work

remains

within the reader

it is a way

of connecting the past

to the present

and the present

to the past

and back again

into the future

unknown

it is a time-honored-way

of imagining

of creating

of learning

of teaching

of searching

of thinking

of finding

of exploring

the meaning

reading should be

ever as it was intended

a pleasure

a simple pleasure

you make the time

for

in the maze of the day

or the blocks of the night

at any age

at any time

anywhere

it’s there

waiting for your return

I love to read

in my car

it’s quiet there

a room within itself

full of natural light

and dots of rain

and stacks of books

nibbled

or half-bitten

fully digested

it’s where i go

to feel most

like myself

TL

When in Winter

in the pool

of reflection

i saw so many

things

there were parts

forgotten

and parts apart

from forgotten

in a frozen block

in centuries such

as this

where the sun

is a shadow

but under a grove

of turning trees

the water runs

continuously

and life teems

beneath

its eternal spring

where the wild

come to drink

i feel the strands

of willows

in the wind

and watch the sun rise

and set

across the water

deep

much too far to reach

where the fish and muck have

floated up

and no deer dares to drink

the stars look down

and see it all

for truth is truth

and most truths

are too much to bear

like death

depending on

one’s nature

either you see

the entirety

or pick and choose

which part

to play

pretending you haven’t

the time

such requires

when that’s all anyone

has

is time

as those who haven’t

any

would say

TL

Perspective

she rested

her head

on a rock

the wind

at her back

like a pat

the sound

of a bird

winging away

it might rain

today

I understand

the rain

and why it

falls

TL

What Was

apart

from that

it was good

like looking

out to sea

and catching

a glimpse

of gold

before

it

sinks

beneath the sand

only to float up

elsewhere

shimmering and shining

in another

place

and time

unmatched

in words

and deed

the feeling

of a dream

before

it is

TL

SHANIA

before

she was

a superstar

writing and singing

her own

signature songs

she was

just a 10-year-old child

living in poverty

suffering at the hands

of her step-dad

who abused her

in every way

imaginable

she wasn’t just struggling

to find food

but a way to cope

day to day

living with a volcanic step-dad

an abused mother

and sisters that looked to her

for mothering

it was the magic of music

that swept her away

and saved her

and gave her

another life

to live

one she dreamt of

and prayed for

and worked for

sacrificed for

she’s strong

not because she chose

to be

but because

she had no other

choice

but to be

a songbird

in the dead

of winter

singing

to the trees

to the drunks in bars

to the people who paid

to the strangers from town to town

city to city

country to country

stage to stage

‘til she made it

to the Hall of Fame

where great songwriters

get to go

and be remembered

for the gifts they gave

away

TL

Tub

I cleaned

the tub

the one

we used to

sit in

when you were

small enough

to lift

and tote

and set

and whirl

and spin

back then

it was all about

the bubbles

those magic sparkle bubbles

you loved looking

at

and I loved looking at you

looking at them

feels like yesterday

when it was just

you and me

sittin’ in the tub

bubble high

do you remember how

I’d write words on your back

and you’d try to guess

what they were

and how you always got

I love you

now, you’re 16

and 16

can turn her own faucets on

and pour her own bubbles in

and light her own candle

and drain her own water out

and fix her own cup of tea

she needs me

in other ways now

mostly just to listen

and encourage

and say

it’ll be ok

I love you,

too

TL