Good enough

In the fraction of an instant,

A small singularity became

the universe. A single point

        •

inflated into all that is.

And it was just a lightless

boiling soup of particles

for three hundred

eighty thousand years.

Until God cooled it

with his breath

and light was freed.

What science calls the CMB;

the cosmic microwave background

God saw that it was good.

And there was day and night,

there was morning and evening.

And in the next long days

there came to be

land and sea,

Sharks and snails,

doves and dinosaurs,

mosquitos, apples,

sequoias and gardenias.

And God saw that it was good.

On the sixth day,

he sculpted man and woman,

and gave them dominion over

all the good things

that he’d created,

Birds and beasts,

heirloom tomatoes.

And he saw that it

was good enough.

The rest is up to us.

et cetera

The bandoneon softly moans,

the sky gleams in a puddle
on the still black street.

My hand brushes

red-stained pistachio shells

beside the escalator's rail

as I rise from the station.

My mind still filled with the thriller

I've been reading on the train.

The jackhammers chattering

on Broadway mask the sonata

piped out to the sidewalk

in front of the news stand

Where I'll buy this week's

lotto tickets and a hot rod magazine

because the thriller isn't likely

to get me all the way home.

Although the odds of a winning ticket

far exceed the odds of my demise,

I always play the Tuesday Mega

and the Wednesday Super.

I've yet to win a single dollar.

Perhaps that's what keeps me alive.

God's gift is love and life

and if I should hit the numbers,

I'd never see the cash,

I'd be dead within a week.

At least that's my conceit.

I've got the life and love,

my mother, brother, and my lover,

that's all the proof I need.

Now the morning's clouds

have burned away,

the jackhammer is still

eating up the street,

And this month of memorials

both terrible and sweet,

when summer ends

and school begins,

the lessons chalked

on mind's slate.

A friend is coming

for dinner tonight

and I will make for us

a fine and simple meal.

Nobody's business

Nobody asked me

If I needed a pest exterminator,

but I got an offer from Terminix.

Maybe they got my name

from the online gun dealer

who sends me this week’s specials

for AR-15s, Smith & Wessons, Glocks, 

and large capacity magazines.

And perhaps they passed

my name to someone who promises

online 100% certified legal

Multi-state concealed carry permits

I’ve been invited to submit an application

to become a hotel receptionist in Cornwall.

And someone named Sarah writes

that she wants to get naked for me.

And apparently there are Russian girls

desperate for a date. Should I send off

for the erection enhancer?

Or the miracle weight loss pill

that claims I could lose

fifty three pounds in seven days?

I might need to try the portable oxygen

generator.  And forget about the coupons

from KFC and McDonalds. Try instead

the twelve tips about foods that fight dementia.

But before I write back to those desperate Russian girls

I better read up the website that says

it has the truth about Herpes.

If all goes well with the nine million Euros

that have been added to my account

I can book a hotel suite in Belgrade,

that some algorithm thinks I’ve been searching for.

Or maybe I should purchase

that luxury condominium

in Maharashtra, India.

I wonder if they have one of the many

smart home monitoring systems

whose promotions fill my in box.

Smart home monitoring for smart people

like me, especially now that I get a daily

word of the day from Word Genius.

Today’s word was mendacious.

An apt term for most of these solicitations

all I did was buy some shoes and a coat

that doesn’t fit. It was a Japanese-style

embroidered coat so perhaps that’s why

I’m asked if I want to meet Asian girls.

It’s enough to tempt me to try

some flavor of the many CBD oils

now on the market. Do those get you high?

Well at least I no longer get mistaken

for some sheriff in Tennessee.

But some algorithm believes

that I’m the parent of of a student

at a private school somewhere in England

where I’ve been assured that the uniforms are brilliant. 

Lost words

Mom doesn't

have the words

she used to have.

They slip away.

Stolen by the stroke

that stole her

right-handed grip

as well.

When we can't find

a word, a name,

we say it's on the tip

of my tongue.

That's her everyday

experience.

She searches for it,

says I forget the word.

Sometimes I can

find it for her.

Sometimes I can't.

Then we share a laugh.

She told me yesterday

that she used to talk

a lot more, but now

she can't speak clearly.

She was never

at a loss for words.

And she hasn't lost

her sense of humor.

Dad designed

a meditation room

for the Betty Ford Center

in Palm Desert.

So on one occasion,

they were at a party

and Betty was waiting

to introduce them

to her husband,

the former president.

He was in another

conversation so they

were waiting for the moment.

Meanwhile, Betty got

distracted by another

conversation, while

Gerald finished his.

So they stood there

waiting somewhat

awkwardly for Betty

to make the introduction.

Mom smiled and said to Gerald,

Hi, I'm Liz Chambers

what's your name?

And everyone laughed.

She remembers that.

Even if she sometimes

calls me by the dog's name.

Butterflies

It started with the butterflies;

hundreds of them stuck on pins

in deep, glass-fronted

Victorian frames.

In the hallway adjacent

the check-in counters

and the TSA

security lanes at SFO.

I wondered, how many of them

are now extinct?
And how many more
will disappear next week?

My shoes are brightly colored

like many tropical species.

They looked a bit like

those specimens in the hall

as they sat in the gray tray

waiting to enter the X-ray scanner.

My knapsack with the cremains

was pulled aside of course

and a TSA officer took out

a kit with little squares

to pick up any residue

from the box of ashes.

She then applied clear drops

on some and blue drops

on others. The results

were negative of course.

I said this is fascinating.

She said, yeah I loved

chemistry in high school,

physics, though, forget it.

Four movies and two meals later

the Airbus docked at the jetway

in Hong Kong and just before

the doors were opened,

the Captain announced,

Due to a security situation

all flights from Hong Kong

have been cancelled.

So we slept in chairs

or on the floor waiting

for twelve hours, hoping

that our journeys could continue.

Mine was not to be that day

but the next day I was able

to reach my destination

and complete my solemn

mission, to have her ashes

blessed and placed high up

in the temple’s columbarium.

Some we saved to place beneath

the young jasmine bush we planted

where her memory will be preserved

and when the jasmine flowers,

butterflies will sip her nectar.

Found

I thought my life and love were lost,

each new day uncertain.

However, now I see

they always were and are.

And that's a comfort

not a terror -if you see

that possibility has much to do

with what you make of it.

That the hand of God

was always there,

waiting for me

to take it.

And the pain of what

was lost, a lover

and adventurous

companion

was eased by reaching

out to touch a gentle hand

and finding faith and love

were still possible

inside whatever uncertainties

arose with dawn's awakening.

The sun still shines on us,

the roses still bloom,

as they must.

and this day, I will trust.

Things I tell myself

Is my pond a puddle

bound to dwindle

as morning’s glory fades

into evening’s shade?

The songs not sung

remain instead

where they’ve dwelt

inside my head?

A box of negatives

on a closet shelf

or in the cloud with all

the other billion trillions?

Does it matter if it’s matter

or just bits and bytes,

paper or pixels; 

both will linger past my dust.

When a red-winged black bird

sings on cold mornings

his song turns into vapor,

as fleeting as the smoke rings

the pool shark blows

before he sinks the eight ball

in the corner pocket

and collects his wager.

Yes, I digress. So this:

I watched a sunrise

from the summit

of Haleakala ten days ago.

A once in a lifetime moment.

Yes. Except they all are;

the ecstasies and regrets,

kisses and stubbed toes,

bird songs and old movies

seen half a dozen times,

symphonies and sunsets,

shared beds and laughter.

Thanks be to nature,

God, and the flow of time.

For this and this

and this.