The April morning sunshine lights the leaves
above expanding ferns a soft chartreuse,
while someone taking in the sight receives
a serenade of bees just shaken loose
from winter somnolence, and all refuse
from die-back’s covered now in vernal green.
The garden gives the witness scant excuse
to stay inside, when out is new and clean.
As blooming as the gardens now appear,
abundantly in flower, giving birth
to blossoms in the trees this time of year
and petals framed in green on rich damp earth,
there’s also air that nasal-tastes so clear,
and from the birds of flighty song no dearth.
But sometimes what most captivates my eye
are clouds arrayed upon the morning sky.
I read the science fiction years ago,
before the robots took the name “AI,”
when Isaac Asimov thought to bestow
protective laws (at least he made a try).
I didn’t note till recently the lie
that vanity’d be aped by a machine.
But really, why should God or robots vie
to spoil for more hits of dopamine?
I’ve long heard women dress for other girls.
That may be true (I note), but then again,
when guys decide to act like studs or churls,
it’s possible they’re doing it for men.
I wonder why your pride in genuine
creative bent and nonconformist thought
does not divert you from stale origin,
away from crude examples assholes taught.
A nervous voyager, I always rise
before it’s necessary, so instead
of tapping my adrenaline supplies
I get to practice patience in my head.
Already packed, no puzzles to surprise,
lunch made and linens taken off the bed,
I’m sitting in a blue upholstered chair,
and contemplating calmness in the air.
A day of listening produced new thought.
I spent it with my darling talk-starved kid.
As soon as I inclined to speak, I caught
myself, and paused to let her fill the space
between us. That relaxed me some, and brought
a bit of happy vacancy to mind.
I’ll try again. I’ll recollect I sought
a stepping-back, a little ego-rid.
I know already all I would have taught.
In public meditation Friday night,
two motivations soon arose in me:
accepting age’s change to feel all right,
and helping others triumph presently.
To work to comprehend fragility,
adopt a goal protective, thorough, smart,
and listen to each loved one patiently –
describes the message mind received from heart.
A wave of warmer weather washed our coast,
but now we went to winter once again.
The gardens grow new green and grace, but most
the flowers of the fruit trees fell. A fen
of gutter water gathers, and a ghost
mosquito-sounding strikes my hearing when
I read in bed before I off my lamp
and snuggle down to dream the end of damp.
I’d rather you not tell your partner my negative news.
But I don’t intend to request that you muzzle your speech.
So I guess I’ll keep my own counsel, and play my own blues
so softly no murmurs your brotherly eardrums will reach.
The test results I read have knocked me some.
My posture and my exercise inclined
me to assume, although I know that’s dumb.
But I did not expect the rig to find
hip bones appropriate for flight. I’m numb,
and need some time to set my vision right
(The clues were lurking, after hormones stopped,
and cholecalciferol levels dropped).
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