The feeling that all the impassioned choices you’ve made,
could have been otherwise.
The flip side of the coin just tossing in the air.
Life being short and so particular,
you wore that sweater with blue stripes the day you met him,
you dropped out and moved to the city,
or no, you stayed in school
There are only so many days to take up smoking,
to never have really wanted to,
it became so important to learn piano, you sold your car,
and then later bought a car and sold your piano.
Certain that you loved her, and it ran out like water from a glass.
Shaking the upside-down cup, isn’t there more? isn’t there more?
Running as a child, convinced new shoes make you go faster.
Watch Me! Watch Me!
That old trope people bring out to comfort a failing marriage,
but then you wouldn’t have your children, I always think
-I would have other unimaginable children.
I would love them deeply and wholly, just as I love these.
When your mother died, maybe it was better you weren’t with her,
or is that the only regret in a lifetime of sacrifice,
that the last possible gift was impossible to give?
How do we learn to listen as the world takes it’s revenge by tipping,
by tilting our lives so we slide like glasses on a table?
Should it seem quaint, that you’ve spent a mild eternity as a butter dish wedged against a crystal goblet?
Oh watch, the earth is sliding, the tablecloth begins to wrinkle, what’s that looming on the horizon, a salt cellar or an outlawed ashtray?
~The koan has the flavor of something that can be resolved by the intellect, but it cannot. So it keeps the intellect busy while something else happens. Then the real change occurs. – Daesetz Suzuki~