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