How sap spills out.

For all its former glory,
the tree lay dead, cut neatly
in even parts.
A mushroom shaped outgrow,
soon began to
jut out of a cut
as thick as pancake
days and weeks
after being felled.

A year later
trunk and outgrow
are still begging
for
a role
to play
on
a stage not yet built
a use not yet discovered
its sap spilling out
to catch flies and ants and occasional spiders. 

What lies in dreams.

Perhaps, with each dream
I'm closer
to the knowledge
to the ugly truth
of how my son died,
after someone hit him hard,
after he fell,
after he lost consciousness,
after his friends carried
and deposited him
on a couch,
to sleep.

Perhaps
he dreamed
of running and chasing his dog
in the forest
by a river
falling in
fighting to get out
looking for a steady branch
to hold on to.

Perhaps
loss of consciousness spared
him pain
anger
fear-
all his senses
numbed
to knowledge.

Perhaps, he's still dreaming past this moment.

Perhaps, when I wake
I'll dismiss all what lies in dreams.

The ways of the heart.

Funny how many lessons
we pass on, so many
we stop counting.

Brush your teeth
wash your hands
change your shirt
clean your room
feed the dog
do your homework
get a haircut!

Oh Mom!

You should know by now
and want all these things
for yourself, without my nagging you!

Lessons about
surviving the unknown
got lost
buried
in our daily
search for a comfortable life
or dismissed when
too many shiny objects
and infinite possibilities
rose like birthday balloons
on  clear summer days.

Stepping out to play.

(Brian and Butters in Yosemite, 2010)

The path was unsettling
for you and
your dog
as you explored
the challenges
a  new playground
presented.

You saw only joy.

Browsing the brochures.

Two for one cruises
Two for one air
a trip to the moon and back
a second honeymoon
Only, then, you didn't have many expectations.

The simple truth.

Easiest vegetable to grow-from seed to harvest.

If only we didn't expect
to dig up
truffles
after we
planted radishes.