
A Question by Robert Frost
“A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.”
Effort, it seems to me, is what makes gain so sweet. Moving has stretched us beyond what we thought we were capable of, but never have we doubted our purpose. Tired and sore, we are quick to laugh over lost eyeglasses, agree in unison that eating out is the solution, and eagerly rise to never before seen sunrises.
Good question, Mr. Frost, to which I’d respond: Indeed!
Monday Mood: Adjusting Focus
Two days after we landed, boxes and all, I fell ill with the flu. Friends and family unpacked while I slept my way through feverish chills and sweats and all the other fun things that come with this bug.
Yesterday, I regained a sense of normalcy, and could finally focus on my new surroundings. Of course, that called for a few pics to get my bearings.
Loving the new view.



Dead Are Unimpressed
A cruel master
the ticking clock
So much potential
Get it done!
I rush past shadows
crumple the pages
failed attempts
mounting
What of dreams?
Of life’s destiny?
How I worship
at the altar of should
Even with positivity
fantastical notions fall short
I argue against uncertainty
meet only disapproval
There is no magic
no pre-destined fame
just dust gathering
The dead are unimpressed.
(Image my own)
After The Storm (haiku)
Focus
It’s so easy to spot in others – those that constantly complain about everything – but, do we catch it in ourselves?
These days I admit to feeling overwhelmed. Everywhere I look there are things to pack, and dust balls waiting to be scooped up. I lie awake thinking about it, instead of getting much needed rest.
So, I’m adopting a new mantra. Each time I fall into a mindset of lack, I’m consciously telling myself: There is time enough for everything. I’m getting it done.
It’s all about focus.
Monday Mood: unmotivated
I’ve been pushing and pushing and I’ve hit an impasse. Luckily, I booked myself a reflexology treatment for this morning, so I can lean into the feeling and melt.
The sky, mirroring my mood, is a big grey blob.
Hopefully, the clouds and this lethargy will disperse later.
The River
There’s a river runs between us,
you and I.
Our thoughts, like tears, are liquid
carried effortlessly by the current.
But you and I,
we stand on the banks, oblivious;
ignoring the connection,
proudly touting our individualism.
Still the river flows,
and all you’ve suffered,
and all I’ve suffered,
or dreamed, or imagined, or hoped,
flows with it.
Step into the water with me,
feel our connection,
do not be afraid.
for it is sacred.
Wade deeper and know
you are not alone
for I am here
in this river
that runs between us.
(Image my own)
Flock
Blossoming
It may be foolish of me, at my age and in my current condition, but I hang on to the hope that the pain of this effort is leading somewhere: renewal, new purpose, or at the very least, a blossoming.

