I am sitting at my desk
looking out at the garden
thinking of my mortality again.
How many springs has the
the plum tree bloomed?
It’s on its last leg
and so am I.
This is my seventy-seventh spring
and I am remembering back
to my wedding in 1958
in a summer from yesteryear.
The sky was blue, then, too.
~ ~ ~
I can still cut flowers
and arrange them.
I am the lone arranger.
I have rearranged the shelves
in the sunroom studio
I am the poet and piper, too.
Here’s a new music video
"Come With Me"
playing pan flutes with photos
of the plum tree
and blue sky.
~
and a new poem.
AMOR FATI
Amor fati
Love your fate
even if you didn’t get what you wanted
even if you didn’t want what you got,
even if your plans were thwarted
and ended in dead end streets.
Even if hope was overrated
even if the prison bars
were of your own making.
Love it because the sun will be there
every day
even when you can’t see it.
Love your fate
because just living itself
is beautiful,
in some strange, mad way.
~ ~ ~
stay tuned . . .
