THE PLUM TREE BLOOMS AGAIN

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 . . .