everything is everything

Five drake mallards paddling aligned with their wave
As if these ducks were invited to some male bonding ritual
As evening approaches after a delightful warm spring day
And April first blossoms are giving way to the coming of glorious May.

What’s missing from this picture?
Where are their mates? Hidden away.
Sitting somewhere nearby on their clutches.
This is the nesting season when what is not seen is what matters most.

I am out for a bike ride along the familiar route
Along the tidal creek out to the shores of the estuary
Enjoying the sights and sounds and smells,
Enjoying my energy and movement and meditation.

The perfume of the blooms reaches me as I glide past in a moment of bliss.
And all along the way the birds call out in their spring songs.
I hear robins, cardinals, red wing black birds, blue jays, too,
And some I don’t know and can’t see, always the mystery.

Such a sensual pleasure it is to be alive here today.
Nothing else matters for the moment.
Such a magical connected feeling between inner and outer.
Everything is everything is good to know.

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In all honesty

I’ve made a mess of my relationships with women
And not done so great with men, either.
What is it with me?
I get along with myself well enough.

I enjoy the world around me.
I enjoy figuring things out.
I’m sensitive to what people are feeling
And sympathetic for the most part.

But something happens where I say the most off-putting things.
The words come out I’m not sure why.
And it’s weird enough that others keep their distance.
There’s a screw loose as they say.

It’s the elephant in the room.
I must talk about it.
I can’t ignore it like it doesn’t exist.
As they say, denial is not a river in Egypt.

Is there no hope for me pairing off again?
I’m getting less and less interested in going along
For the sake of getting along.
I’d rather keep to myself and my inner life.

I’ve met plenty who have had their own wrecks
Most who blame it all on the other person,
Many who have their financial agenda motivation,
Some who seem extra careful about taking risks.

None who fall for me.
None who sweep me away.
Is it because our hormone levels are down?
Sometimes I think I went for the archetypes.

You know, a certain pout to the mouth,
The way the eyes are set in the face,
Some way the syllables sound,
Perhaps a gesture with the hand.

No wonder it went so wrong.
Looking back I wonder what was I thinking?
I wasn’t thinking.
I was dreaming.

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