Walking Blind

Nairobi, 1978 Don't open your eyes until I tell you to open them, he said.
I squeezed my eyelids tight.
I have a surprise for you, he said. He clasped my hand as we walked. The crunching twigs beneath our feet The scent of bougainvillea Bazooka gum at the corner kiosk The chatter of the passersby My senses were heightened even though He tried to distract me with the Convoluted circle we walked.
Logs, branches came. We veered off the main road Ducked under a fence.
Then I heard it.
Humming, splashing, and gushing. The scent of water lilies saturated the air. Water drizzled on my arms.
Now! His voice echoed in the clearing.
I opened my eyes. Before us was a waterfall Water, like satin curtains dropped over rocks draped with moss. Water, like the gates to heaven where sins were washed away.
I looked up at my brother.  His arms were crossed, right hand cradling left elbow, left hand cradling right elbow.
He smiled. Eyes as luminous as the light slating through the canopy of eucalypt…

The Shirt Waiting In The Closet


A Moment of Kindness

I feel like I changed the course of my day.

This morning on my way out of the neighborhood I spotted a small turtle crossing the road. I slowed down to a halt. Gave it a thought, and then drove around it. I looked in the rearview mirror. A car was approaching at full speed and I watched in horror as it road over it, without crushing it.

At that moment I made a u-turn and returned to the turtle. Just in time to watch its head re-emerge from its shell. Just in time to watch four other cars ride over it, almost crush it. I whipped my car into position in front of it. I put my hazard lights on, jumped out, popped open the trunk, grabbed a towel and scooped it up onto the safety of the lawn.

Something in my act changed my morning. As I went about my day, I felt vibrations around me. Still cannot put it into words. But I am glad I did not shrug off my immediate instinct to help the turtle. I did not succumb to the reasoning that I normally do. I attended to my first desire.

I shared my experien…

Surrender - Journal Entry


Stillness In the Wind

If you want to talk to the gods, tell it to the wind...
... his father had told him.  Yet how could he tell it? The winds were still The birds sang at the wrong time Tree frogs had stopped croaking Yes, flowers blossomed and leaves shed But at the wrong time Could he still talk to the gods,  Could he still tell it to the wind?