If only one could engineer a bit
of self-esteem for complicated youth.
It’s like a magic feather, amulet,
or token from a fortune-teller’s booth,
encouraging all flights appropriate.
I’d lend the recipe, but here’s the truth –
you’d better try to open, to achieve
the grace that might await, if you’ll receive.
This time of year the garden overgrows
encouraged by the sunlight and the hose.
I’m quite content among the green I chose,
and former-neighbor gifts of plum and rose.
She called me “stalwart,” and the compliment
remained in mind as I walked home with food.
Behind me in the checkout line, she sent
the syllables at me and tipped my mood.
She seemed my age, and neither weak nor bent.
Her query “Are you walking?” wasn’t rude.
Her friendly tone conveyed a trace chagrin,
and acted on me like fresh oxygen.
I’m sure you pressed CAPS LOCK by accident,
when you responded emailing to me.
We have no quarrel and you never meant
to mimic ransom-note hostility.
But it looks harsh, no matter your intent.
I think regarding screen, we should agree,
because there’s ambiguity by word,
to read in negativity’s absurd.
On one hand, I have learned to patiently
abide, for change comes slower every year.
But then again each day’s a gem to me,
and I don’t want to spend one passively.
I aim to plumb the puzzle till it’s clear,
by clue amazing, talisman or spear,
the way to balance temporality.
From when I wake at dawn till 2 p.m.,
I’m busy, active, driven to result.
I have at least 10 items, tackle them,
and usually 3 specials. Difficult
it isn’t, habit-formed as an adult
(Mom called me selfish/lazy till I grew).
I’m proud-productive, over that insult,
but good for nearly nothing after 2.
It isn’t that I worry actively
about my kids – they grew up long ago.
But as I survey life, the quality
of their experience – their jobs and health,
their moods, their challenges with family –
is part of what I reckon every day.
This week, one has her best friend’s company.
The other’s group-vacationing, and so
consideration takes a break in me.
I read the Bible years ago, in full.
Although it bored me some, it also made
a deep impression. Not religious pull,
but glimpses at the humor we’ve downplayed.
Creation’s motive also crept on me –
conversion into matter was in there.
I took away the clue our legacy
is obligation to be self-aware.
That’s partly why I hone my memory,
take notes and pictures, tell my stories too.
I walk, and try to focus steadily.
Perhaps should I begin to lose a slew
of recollections, I can notice it,
self-governing while facing loss of wit.
The practice wasn’t hard and didn’t take
much time away from other morning moves.
And nearly every pose she had me make
produced a sense of wellness. It improves
my balance and my attitude to wake
to lengthening; my spine the act behooves.
Infirm or frail I’d feel a sorry wretch.
I’ll not forsake my customary stretch.
A tide of challah-making has beset
the families I foisted on the world.
Inspired by late hate, one kid has let
her mind expand her heritage, and hurled
herself full-tilt. A month ago I made
the first, on Friday kneading, punching down.
She joined for shape and bake and in the shade
of setting sun, her offspring gathered round.
Since then it’s been a weekly treat for those,
and now the younger local nest bakes, too.
They’re into lower carb, but still they chose
to help assemble and enjoy the chew.
The work was great, and what I savored most
was next-night’s avocado challah toast.
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