Doing Time In a Coffee Shop

Thirty five years ago I met a man in the coffee shop. He told me that he had been coming here for thirty five years. I smiled at him and said really? That was my first time. Thirty five years later I am still here in the coffee shop. Today I spoke to a young man. I told him I had been coming here for thirty five years. He smiled at me and said really? This was his first time.

- David Byrne

Before us now the edge of the earth,
below us the nearly endless cold.
Around us nothing but shimmering
the miles of empty and sparkling blue.

For a few hours, the sail fills on
toward infinity. Shadows of
our delicate bodies ebb and flow
across the deck of our delicate boat.

What if the beautiful days, the good
and pacific temperate moments,
weren’t just lovely, but everything?
What if I could let it fall away
in the wake, that ache to extract
meaning from vastness?

Let this suffice; the ease of thinking
it all goes on, whether we’re here
to see it or not. The splashing waves,
the suntipped gulls arcing across
the radiant world.

—Kirsten Dierking, “Sailing on Lake Superior” (via Writer’s Almanac)

Upward reach to the stars again

Forgetting the past, how low I’ve been

Soaring high through this space

Afraid to look down

Holding you, can’t let go

Don’t hear a sound

If I fall

Would you lift me again

Staying afloat, never is sure

Will I succeed, can I endure

You hold me up, you give me hope

My vision is clear

Looking around, seeing it all

As long as you’re near

If I fall

Would you lift me again

Rick, 4/4/14


A Seagull's Plight

by Leonora Galinta

a resilient soul hoists his drooping wings dreary but dreamy soars far so high he keeps on searching for his illusive dreams regardless of the storm and height of mountains goes through miles away in his equanimity straight with vision of sunrays on plight are failures not too bad tries again the mighty swords in his heart so much patience and love help him to survive in every vicissitude and kinks of his life oftentimes we can get the melody of what we want if we allow the cacophonies to come