A few years back (actually, more than a few, but that's part of any man's  effort to ignore the pasage of time) my favorite poet spent a summer traveling around Europe. His travels resulted in an expansion of his vision of the world,  a cornucopia of experiences to be treasured for a lifetime, and the writing of several works of poetry, some of which I will share with you in this, as well as future blogs. I admit to just a twinge of jealousy as I read of his journey, both for the adventures he lived, as well as for his talent in describing them. But then, the greatest gifts any child can give to a parent is to start off in his footsteps, than rapidly outdistance him with the passing of years. If any of you develop a wanderlust in reading his words, I make no apologies, and wish you bon voyage.

 

the first step

 

on the rim of this bowl

standing with toes out over the edge.

 

the opposite side winks across the distance of three months.

one step will begin the plunge.

two points and a trajectory -

what lies between?

 

probably:

opportunity, hunks of clay, waiting to be molded.

adversity, to be stumbled on like a landmine.

      (but let us hope not an actual landmine)

adventure like a hot wire of chance charged with the current of risk,

or: the balancing of opportunity and adversity,

 

the only certain is the unknown:

a forest of moments

yet seed in the fertile future

waiting for the days and nights

to be born.