Thoughts About Feelings and a Poem

Feelings are apart of who I am.  They are a current that runs through me.  They can tell me to attend to something that is impacting me. They can tell me to follow a deep desire.  They can be distortions of thinking, old patterns, or induced by lack of sleep or drugs (Painkillers after surgery were a hard teacher). Sometimes they are only a tiny part of me. For me feelings are like dreams. They need attention and space to breathe and move to be part of my life and flesh out who I am.


And now the poem:


For Miyazaki

green green all is green
morning: pressure building mounting compression darkening clouds thicken
sky and me about to burst
a Scheherazade wind sweeps in
redwood boughs blow down and up
skimmering the roof of the old Dutch barn
setting off needles in a twisting twirling dance

and then the rains came

a rush of water tumbles down is struck sideways by sudden gust
and swims across the sky

a shift in the wind

water streams straight down in glistening strands
the sound of fall
earth becomes drum
and it in turn plays me


the wind comes back bouncing

puffs of air displace drips with pockets of air
patterns of water and clouds of space—
silence in the empty places

a shift again

rain begins to slant in a diagonal vector—                                                    
moves to syncopated pings:  ping   pingping  pingpingping           ping
(my lips curl in smile)

the very air becomes a factor

still, clear
I can see straight through
to forever

below, green green all is…

my moods move like weather
(on any given day).

all is green