Random Musings

The Heavens open up, Finally... As if they can no longer hold back As if they know They held back way too long Now there's no relenting They pour as if that's all they can do Sometimes, a steady downpour, Sometimes, a quiet drizzle  Stopping now and then to catch a breath The Earth parched and thirsty  Takes it all in...Life depends on it  The thick black clouds hover and linger  Dark. Brooding. Contemplating. Lightning and Thunder withdraw  The Sun and Moon step back too Letting the Clouds have their way The Heavens open up like never before As if they know They held back way too long The waters fall and stumble  Sometimes harming all that stands in their way Sometimes cooling all that simmered once Some good, some bad...some raging on They must learn to flow... To flow gently... Carving new crevices and paths  The waters learn to flow...to flow quietly  Life learns to flow too...to flow quietly.

Moments, Small, countless moments Each on its own Each complete by itself Moments,  All full of memories Traversing distance and space Countless moments and infinite space Moments, Time and Space All merging  Into Silence Stillness

The Flags,  How proudly they dance on the poles The wind gently caressing them Lifting them up  Light as a feather They Flutter, they Float, they Fly, High above the ground, Billowing with pride Towering above all else  As people look up and salute them With pride, joy and happiness.  Flags... But The Flags that come home Are cruelly heavy Ask the wife, Ask the children,  Ask the parents,  Ask the siblings Ask the friends who carried them They bear testimony To the weight of these Flags The Flags that come home Are Cruelly heavy And remain heavy  For lifetimes 

Stories The stories we share The stories that remain within The stories that slip between the spaces  Stories The stories that make us The stories that break us The stories we tell others The stories we tell ourselves Stories It's all the art of storytelling That's how we weave our Life Deciphering  Looking for patterns Searching for meaning Trying to make sense Stories Life is all stories  Just stories

And there we thought, A great visionary A stellar Leader Political ideologies Economic growth Peace This, that, and everything... All these or some of these Would unite us Would lead us Would guide us Would lift us into a better World And today, here we are Looking at that lonely monkey Longing for Love Longing to Love Longing to be Loved And here we are Realizing  As Truth finally dawns Through that little monkey  All that truly matters  All that ever matters is To Love and Be Loved 

That lone Penguin On that desolate snowy path Making that Choice, that day Doing what felt right to her Doing what felt true to her spirit Choosing the Silent mountains above all else Was she  choosing  Solitude    Was she choosing  Aloneness Was it angst that drove her Was it Liberation that she sought Who ever truly knows anyone's  Whys? Today, we who have stumbled on her And connect with that lone soul Each on our lonesome journey  Never truly a part of all that is around us That lone Penguin and  Us Driven by Choices The Choices we make The Choices Life makes for us The Choices that Life pushes us to make Do we ever realize their true impact... 

In Life's long journey, amidst myriad experiences, we tend to forget who we were at different phases of our Lives…versions of us that we may not even remember anymore…especially when the Present is overwhelming. I get a call from a college friend who gently walks me down the memory lane of bunked classes, cafeteria visits, movies we watched, professors, classmates, our judgmental nick names, peppering the conversation with bursts of laughter and slivers of joy that break through my grief. One friend visits and reminds me of my confident driving skills...something, I have all but forgotten and confidence be thrown out the window. To think, that deep down somewhere there does exist that confident version of me, seems almost unbelievable.  As we recount difficult life experiences, I am reminded of the strong and fearless versions of me, I now have no strength to recall. Another friend visits, reminiscing about my almost epically comic attempts at cooking, the adventurous holidays we u...