On The Way

I really don’t like running late to work in the mornings. It seems there are a number of us running late as I find myself waiting for traffic to get moving. Lately the rains just never quite come to an end. Many an old timer would tell us that the longer you live here the more used you get to the rains. How long does one need to live here to be accustomed…5 years, 10 years, or more? Apparently it must be the same amount of time it takes to be considered a ‘sourdough’. It doesn’t matter much as the craving for sunlight has had me in its grip for weeks, if not longer. At times it’s more like a thirst, if that makes any sense in all this rain. Oh! The light is changing…

Descending rain
glistened black
upon a sunlit street.

dreams

visions from yesterday
about tommorrow
getting lost today

its weird how often the dreams we have about the future get lost in the present struggles of today.

sleep

at my window
splatting rain
brings me sleep

growing up...my siblings and I slept in my uncles attic. we had lived with him on the old homestead while my father was at war in Asia. the attic had a tin roof with several windows over looking the garden out back. during the spring rains we would hold up in the attic playing games and listened to the rain hitting the tin roof. we would talk of far away places we would go when we grew up. I would often fall asleep by myself sitting by this window dreaming of far off places. i now live in a far off place in southeast Alaska and those same sounds on my tin roof cabin put me to sleep today. yes I dream of home during these times.

shadows

moonlit clouds
pulling shadows
over a mountain

that night there was a great deal of snow that fell on the mountains not to far from my apartment. as I sat by the window the clouds parted somewhat and the moonlight shone about. it seemed as if the clouds were pulling shadows over the mountains. at the same time the shadows of my mind were parting.

wipers

upon the windshield
a stormy night is removed
with windshield wipers

often times while one is caught driving home in a storm late at night one wonders if the storm will end. this particular night the windshield wipers gave me comfort with each swipe of the blade the storm seem to let me get through.

flute

same breath
same note
of a different sound

teaching myself to play the flute I found the sameness of practice often sounded different.