First Word: Suzanne Adam: Isolation

 Isolation

 

Meditation while in isolation

In silence…

Just the whisper of wind teasing

The leaves in the trees

Now

The rustle of Judy turning pages

Danette clearing her throat

Outside

Construction machinery

Beep-beep, bang-bang

The distant swoosh of traffic

 

Last month

At the lake

Almost perfect silence

At night only

Country dogs barking

 

Early morning

Long-legged ibis honking

The crested elaenias whistling

Distant voices of fishermen

Trolling on the lake

Their motors purring

 

For meditation I step outside

Breathe in the air

Perfumed by boldo trees and native grasses

The cool on my face is calming

I drink in the lake scene

That liquid bowl

A gift

Always there

 

Then

Down by the lake

The soft sound

Of tiny wavelets

Licking and lapping the shore.

First Word: Mary Judith Ress: Isolation

 Isolation

Could I pretend to be Mary Oliver and find joy inside such a word?

 

SOLA—yes, but never alone.

Because there is the robin and the wren.

The blind cat with her paw upon my sleeve.

Old Santi asleep in his chair

While I write from that space

Filled with eternal longing.

For a Home I don´t remember.

But it smelled of lavender.

And mother’s milk.

 

No, never alone.

But always that longing

To go back to where I came from

Where the river splashes over my toes.

The breeze sings lullabies in my ear.

The old Oak folds me in her arms.

 

And they are all there in the circle.

Aunt Bee and Aunt Judy.

Betty and Clarence.

Ca and Will.

Transformed—Sunbeams all.