Three More, from Syllables Go By

“When I’m being carried toward the grave, don’t weep…Your mouth closes here and immediately opens with a shout of joy there,” says the poet Rumi. And it seems I was headed “there” when I got “here.”

Daddy loved to tell the story of the doctor who had come seven miles from his clinic in town to deliver the first baby of his seventeen-year old wife. It had been bad cold on that long January night, Daddy said, and daylight finally brought his son into this world.

“The doctor tried and tried to get you to breathe, but you were still and blue, your eyes closed, and he was looking for a trash can,” Daddy said. “I didn’t ask, I snatched you out away from him and blistered your little butt.” Which did the trick. ‘Cause here I am.

I do wonder, however, where I was heading. In due course, I reckon, I’ll find out.

29
1949,
born in my grandmother’s house.
Checked her address twice.

 

 

Nature is lovely and interesting in her contradictions. Sort of like a handsome man or a beautiful woman, with one brown eye and one blue eye.

30
Lightning splits the sky.
Earth and air caught in the burn.
Dark night is still cold.

 

 

I have a gold pocket watch and chain that belonged to my father. It’s a Waltham, a railroad watch, with a smaller inset dial on the face for the second hand. It’s a beautiful vintage piece that he won in a poker game in Fairbanks, Alaska. He gave it to his father, with HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD inscribed on the back.

When Pop Brewer died, Daddy took it back. When Daddy died, I got it.

When it stopped working I snapped the gold chain clasp to the twist switch on an old lamp that sits on my desk. I dangled it there to remind myself to take it to the watch repair shop. It’s been hanging there for almost a year, and I’ve decided to leave the hands paused just where they are.

Sort of a reminder of the reality of time, and how the Dalai Lama put it. He said there are two days in the year when nothing can be done, yesterday and tomorrow. Right now is the only moment for action, for loving and for kindness, he said.

35
Blue world spins so fast.
White clouds go even faster.
Brown hawk sits her nest.