family

just when my mind begins to race
imagining disasters in the ten-fold
tragedy unimaginable…

i remember that time moves slow enough
to catch yourself caught in the moment,
that ‘it’ is just right…

that mom’s hands never really age,
forever giving you enough to hold onto
if only wrapped around her one finger..
the first heartbeat you’d known

that dad’s tears are real badges of parenthood,
there when you screw up
and succeed… more than words,
saltwater lessons of life

that brother’s love is always there,
even when he was smarter, stronger, faster
he wasn’t trying to be better,
he just was…

that sister’s care is always stronger
than a proud defeat,
and she is always mother’s touch
even as miles – or inches – away..

and family is a root
a trunk
a branch

a leaf floating gently down
at the kiss of wind..

a wellspring of hope
a fountain of youth

a history, a language
and a name.

A Free and Random Chaos

A Masaru Emoto water crystal.

We’ve just had Daylight Savings Time and I’m thinking about just that (time) as I watch “Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman.” I love Morgan Freeman and I want to be him and do what he does: embody curiosity and wonder – for both are what make us young, wise, and humble. Ponder this: a clock does not change time, but measures it. We may use a clock to help us understand time but only by how we notice the clock changing over time. But we can also rely on our sense of timing and time by the way we feel the difference of things: the passage of subtle, slow-moving yet powerful micro/macro-scopic change. We feel the moments no less than the minutes. Maybe all we feel are the moments…and the minutes are simply a collection of rain drops to say it has rained 3,805,118,976,114,123,446 drops in this moment, but say nothing of the 5 million flowers bloomed. Time is our sense of order in a free and random chaos that is life in the universe. Our higher order thought amidst the lower order playing field. And our game of fun is to forget we know any better.