Venturing Toward Vibrancy

Below is a poem of mine from “Chewing Down My Barn,” my second book of poems. While I’m thankful for all family and friends, and institutions that helped me along the way, this poem underscores gratitude for unusual happenings, eastern and western modes of spirituality, that shape my meditations in old age. (The acrylic art is mine from unconscious painting.)

“Venturing Toward Vibrancy”

From the feeder brightly colored birds
perch on my office window with looks of friendly hunger:
“Don’t go back to the Mac
before you bring us suet and black seed.
We watch your slow steps with care
as you climb the driveway while we chant Over Here.”

Okay, okay, but coffee and breakfast first.
You must want me with bounce in my step
and I plan to fill the birdbath on the way.
Your small bodies get dehydrated fast.
(I’m chatting with birds
who are not surprised
as they hover to do yoga breathing).
It’s all a patient dance in slow motion.

I pat cat Tony curled in my chair.
He’ll be pissed if I don’t share this excitement.
Have I lost it? A brainy guy with doctorate
from Union Seminary and Columbia?
Or am I finding new ways to be vibrant
in the solitude and strangeness of old age?