Patterns Broken                                                                  
 
September rolls around again,
Brings hope of November rain.
Seasons cycle through the year,
Warm winds signal Fall is here.
 
Though we sigh of summer gone by,
Love we thought would never die,
Warm days under the hot sun,
Joy-filled with vacation fun.
 
Welcome Autumn, patterns so well-known,
Multicolored  leaves off trees wind-blown,
Ripe pears, acorns dropping to the ground,
Squirrels, deer and turkeys gathering ‘round.
 
Patterns of the season, same as every year,
Patterns to us so familiar and dear.
 
And yet, not the same
A new game.
 
Lake is low,
Ill winds blow.
 
Fires blaze,
For days and days.
 
Smoky breeze
Wildlife flees.
 
Rampant virus
Runs among us.
 
Pattern is torn
We are worn.
 
All awry,
And we cry.
 
But, remember, humans always cope,
And they never, ever quite lose hope.              
They find space to play and sing and dance
In the most direst of circumstance.
 
This long year will run its course, 
This vile virus lose its force,                                                   
 Patterns dear for which we yearn
They will in due course return.
 
But not the same game as before,
A new and different pattern is in store.
And it will neither be better nor worse,
But just life’s river on a new course.
 
And we will adjust,
Because we must. 

​The Day the Sun Didn’t Rise
 
Awakened. Dark.
Stayed in bed.
Later, still dark.
Checked the clock:
Past sunrise.
Looked out window:
Dark red sky.
Where was the sun?
Fires overnight,
Sent smoke our way. 
Apocalyptic
Everyone said.
But we went on 
As usual,
Drinking our coffee,
Eating a croissant,
Reading the paper,
Chatting …..
 
Resilience.
 
-MW

​We turn to the ospreys                                               
For perspective,
Comforted by their seasonal patterns:
Arrive, fix up nest, mate
Lay eggs, raise chicks, migrate.
The same every year.
 
There are glitches:
Unseasonal storm, chick dies
Unsuccessful fledge.
But they take it all in stride,
Returning always to the pattern,
Life’s prescription.
 
They accept life
Without complaint.


​-MW

Belief

Belief of one sort or another is a primal need,
It provides solace, certainty, security and hope.
Belief once found its major refuge in religion,
In time belief abandoned aging religion for science,
And science will remain its domicile for a while.

Belief found fertile ground in religion and then in science.
When host again is spent, where will belief next find its shelter?


A Pious Hope

Reality
Has today for far too many
Become a tedious torturous experience,
A source of pain, fear and boredom,
A place from which escape is necessary.

Virtual Reality
 Has become our Shangri-La,
The gift of our Electronics Age,
A  source of delight and novel diversion
A place that's sedating us to death.

Our reality is a trying ordeal,
Our faux reality's a mortal intoxicant,
Neither's a fit habitat for humans
And both must yield to a better reality.

Our ruthlessly competitive thing-centered world
And our world of analgesic distraction
Must give way to sanity and humanity,
To a community of thoughtful brothers and sisters,
Of humans content and at peace with one another,
Where want is met and life's a joyful adventure.

A pious hope, perhaps--but hope it is!


An Enigmatic Species

We think too little,
Love too little,
Give too little,
And talk too much.

We work too much,
Waste too much,
Protest too much
And know too little.

We're ever restless
Hopelessly confused,
Rarely content
And quickly bored.

We're an enigma,
Wondrously flawed,
Up to the best
And given to the worst.

Leaves we are,
Blown by the wind,
Burned by the sun
And lost in the night.

-JM



Epigrams by JM

Small problems with small solutions
​Obviate big problems with no solutions.

Questions are no less informative than answers.

Expectations are our doing and our undoing.

​Patterns are both our salvation and our damnation. 
​

Píccola says: When hot, I seek shade. When tired, I find a bed. When worried or in need, I find my people. When they're gone, I go into my cave. I do not worry. And when they return, I am so happy.

Autumn from Vivaldi's Four Seasons.
​Calming classical music for a troubled season.

The Virus That Roared
 
 Once there was a planet where lived many species of animals. They lived in relative harmony. That is, one animal would eat the other, but no one was dominant and unless hungry, they left each other alone.
Until one species emerged to become dominant. These were called humans. For whatever reason, the humans travelled to all corners of the earth, they developed villages then cities, and soon they dominated the landscape. They cut down trees and dug up meadows to build houses and tall buildings. Then they paved over the bare areas and invented automobiles so they could move around more quickly. They hunted other animals, often just for fun or to decorate their hats. The other animals retreated and some even disappeared.
Now the humans began to be distrustful of their fellow beings. They fought battles to win the land of their neighbors. They built walls to keep those neighbors out. They became more and more sophisticated, until they had ships on the sea and satellites in the sky to patrol, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.
The governments took care of this. Meanwhile, the people could go about their lives. But they too feared. They feared their neighbors so built fences and installed cameras. They locked up anyone who they thought strayed too far. Others they just shunned. They feared the animals too, trapping and poisoning any that threatened them, their pets or their gardens.
While the people were doing this, a different enemy was at work. A tiny one, so small it was invisible to the naked eye, even the eyes of the scientists. A virus. This virus crept into the humans’ cities, and entered the people’s bodies without them knowing it. Soon they  began to get sick. More and more became infected, and with the efficient transportation systems they had developed, the virus was able to travel around the world in a few days. Soon almost every nation on Earth had the illness in their midst.
So the people turned their attention to this new enemy. Their doctors and researchers took over from the government and military to fight it. They did so in an efficient, unbiased manner. And the researchers in all nations worked together. They now had a common enemy.
This tiny virus proved to be a mighty adversary, that could not be dispatched quickly with threats or bribes. But the humans kept fighting and eventually, they managed to get it under control and then to eradicate it completely. This was a tribute to the expertise of the human medical world. But they were not politicians, they were scientists, not interested in power. So as soon as they had vanquished the mighty virus, they turned the governing reins back to the politicians. And they readied themselves for the next as yet unknown enemy to attack.
​-MW

​A New Way of Life?
 
Once there was a planet. On this planet lived many species of animals, but one dominated the rest: homo sapiens. At first the humans lived like the other animals, taking up little space, eating and being eaten. But gradually, their population increased and they began to move across the planet. They learned to build shelters, they invented the wheel, and they began to live in clusters. It was not long before there were large cities, paved over with roads, filled with factories that belched smoke and chemicals. The other animals continued to live as they had, but the humans took their space and the other species dwindled. The humans were dominant over the entire planet and bent it to their will.
There were some humans who feared that other, more intelligent beings, would invade from outer space and do to them what they had done to the other animals. Others scoffed. “We are dominant,” they said, “and will always be so. No animal can compete with us. The whales may be intelligent but they must stay in the sea. We alone can live on land, sea and travel in the air. No one can destroy us.”
The gods do not take kindly to hubris. And so it was that one day a tiny living thing, so small it could not be seen, entered the human world. It travelled unnoticed for a while, entering human bodies where it multiplied. For it could live only with the help of humans. Finally, when enough people had become infected, the humans sat up and took notice. The scientists and doctors began immediately to combat the little virus, but it was novel and they didn’t know how it worked. So they put their best people to work studying this insidious being. But study takes time, and meanwhile more and more people became ill and died.
The people were told to stay home, not work, not travel, not visit each other. Many did as they were told. Their fancy cars, of which they were so proud, stayed in the driveways, factories were closed, and the streets were empty. Soon, other animals travelled the streets: deer, coyotes, mountain lions. More birds flew about than usual. Some people noticed the unusual quiet. Instead of traffic noise, they now heard the chirping of the birds in the morning. And instead of exhaust from cars, they could smell the delicate scents coming from the gardens they passed on their walks.
Some people rejoiced in these changes. Others began to notice their fellow human beings and tried to help those in need and to be more accepting of others. Still others did not take notice at all. But all wanted to survive, as do all animals. So the scientists kept working, most people kept doing their part, and gradually they began to figure out ways to keep the virus at bay. Finally the great day came when a vaccine was developed and tested. Now they could conquer this virus once and for all.
The people all cheered and came out from their houses to be vaccinated. And in due time, the disease disappeared from all but the poorest areas.
Now came the question: did the human race want to go back to the way it was or did it want to forge a new way of life, one that would bring them closer to other humans and to the natural world from which they had retreated? This is still to be debated. But human nature being what it is, the human race will continue to dominate, some more than others,   and in its hubris will probably return to more destruction than construction. Until the day Nature sees fit to send a new plague: a virus, an asteroid, extreme weather, or beings from outer space.
We can only wait to see.                 -MW

A Lament

We humans!
Wondrous biological complexities,
Marvelously imaginative thinking beings
With god-like creative capabilities,
But given to greed, hatred and violence.
Quel dommage!

​-JM

Today's Nemesis

Faster and faster is not always better,
More and more is never enough.
Ever faster and ever more
Have made means and things of humans.

Frenetic pursuit of ephemeral realities
With too little time for our human lot,
Too little time for play and thought
Can only in futility end.

Let's stop this hectic flow,
Let's sit and look and think,
Let's be the end and not the means,
Let's be humans and not things!

-JM


The Myopic

All too many
All too commonly
See only
What they choose to see,
Hear only
What they choose to hear,
Think only
What they choose to think,
Do only
What they choose to do.

This all too infantile
Embrace of the self
And adjustment to life,
this all too self-blinding
Self-serving refusal
To bear with reality
Beyond the self,
Is flagrant abuse
Of personal freedom,
And social folly.

To make matters worse,
These all too many
Are all too often
Beyond persuasion,
Impervious to change.

​-JM

Morning Walk

Silent dawn
Mute birds on wire
No cars, no people,
Air is still.

Sky lightens
Birds begin to chirp
A mourning dove coos
Soft car whoosh

Dog walker 
Jogger in the street
We nod at distance
Silently


In the Store

Masked faces
Shop in silence
No speaking
Eyes only


Outside

The air smells so clean
I detect flower scents
I can breathe deeply
If it weren't for this mask


The Mask of Silence

I'll talk to you
But stay six feet away
If you come near
Pull your mask up
Nod, don't talk
Smile with your eyes
Near--and yet far
​In mutual silence.​

        Times Changing

Deadly virus, danger ahead,
Shelter in place, they said.
Stay at home every day,
Do not go out to work or play.

And the people obeyed.

Close all stores and places to eat,
Get take-out for a treat.
Do not drive to the mall,
Distance yourself six feet from all.

And the people heeded the call.

Try not to talk and please don't shout,
Wear a mask when you are out.
It's hard but please do try,
Cede space to others you pass by.

And the people did try.

When people did not run about,
The animals came out.
Turkeys wandered in throng,
Mockingbird sang its morning song,

And the people, while they walked,
Learned to listen not  talk.
Their cell phones put away,
And for once just enjoyed the day.

 DEADLY VIRUS ENTERS THE COUNTRY
NEWEST INFORMATION ON COVID19
The headlines shout silently on the computer screen

         But I listen to the new predawn silence
          of no traffic, no airplanes.

GOVERNOR TO SPEAK AT NOON
NEW RESTRICTIONS IN PLACE
The newspaper headlines scream on the page

     And I look out the window to watch the jay
     and the squirrel who wait for their peanuts.

ATTEND A ZOOM YOGA CLASS
JOIN US ON ZOOM AT NOON
SPECIAL FREE LECTURE ON ZOOM
 my emails proclaim

    But I ignore these invitations,
      to  write in peace and quiet.

DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT A MASK
KEEP YOUR DISTANCE, DO NOT TALK
Large bold print words on the signs outside stores.

Silent screams, warnings, admonitions, 
            All necessary but....

              I head for the safety of home
     Where silence, peace and normality reign.

In Appreciation

Musicians and artists
Must practice their art.
That is their outlet.
So they display their art
Play their music 
On the street
For all to enjoy
For free.



Loners

Loners know how to be alone,
Are their own best company,
Can entertain themselves
Indefinitely.


​-MW



​

Our Time is out of Joint

Are we running too fast,
Doing too many things,
Carrying the many burdens,
Laboring under too many expectations?
The answer is yes!

Do we crave too much,
Amass too many debts,
Accumulate too much dross,
Still ourselves with pills, pot and drink?
The answer is yes!

Is our electronics world an oasis,
Electronic gadgetry needed respite?
Is communication now more bond,
Has community become more intimate?
The answer is no!

Has freewheeling capitalism been a boon?
Financiers and borrowers joined in a rush for wealth
A financial bubble become a financial blister,
Banks glossed ranks and credit became pious hope.
And the gap between wealthy and poor was left wider than ever.

While we're over preoccupied,
Climbing too many slippery ladders,
Wallowing in awe and consternation,
Foreign policy goes its hectic way.
A pity!

Our time is surely out of joint,
Individuals have become a befuddled lot
And America has lost its moral ballast.
All is boiling, all is roiling!
How much longer before a new dawn?

​-JM

Our Manic American World

We are a now society,
An ever more society,
A now and more and more
And nothing else society.

We buy and buy,
Waste and waste,
Discard, toss out,
Think nothing of it.

It's a madhouse,
We're its inmates,
Are not bothered,
Don't seem to care.

It's a roller coaster,
A merry-go-round
Whirling wildly
Out of control.

It's a bubble
And will burst
As all bubbles
Always do.

But don't despair,
All is not hopeless,
Don't rush off, 
All is not lost.
Stop, look and listen,
Tarry and think.

Yes, ours is an orgy
Of entrenched excesses,
All may appear quite helpless
But it's not beyond repair.

Capitalism must be recast,
Individualism moderated,
Materialism depassioned,
Consumerism curbed!

That's surely no mean challenge
And beyond the reach of many,
But when naught is tried
Naught is ever gained. 

My hope it is
That e'er long,
Serious reflection 
Moral discipline
Human decency
And common sense
Will prevail
In a change,
The re-evaluations of our values
Long overdue.
If this is so, 
America will 
Again find
Its moral moorings
And a moral balanced life,
Become a model
Not remain a blight.
An opportunity!
Let's hope!

​-JM

Píccola and JM know how to shelter in place!

Destiny

Monarch butterfly
Spreads her wings
Into the wind
Lifts off to fly
Northward

Buffeted by wind
Blown off course
Still flies, corrects
Toward the North
Again

Huddles from the rain 
Overnight
Sheltered but wet
And bedraggled 
And cold

In the morning sun
Spreads wings to dry
Lifts off again
Over dusty 
Hot lands

Comes to fertile fields
Green plants, milkweed
She lands and waits
Male arrives
They mate

She finds the milkweed
And lays her eggs
Then, fulfilled
Flies weakly
​And dies.

3 Quatrains

It must feel wonderful
To fly in the sky
Wild and free
Soaring on high.

Birds are just doing their thing,
But I can't help but think
They must feel joy
When they fly and sing.

I too, would fly,
Soar high in the sky, 
A bird on the wing,
With a song to sing.


Dreams

I used to dream that I could fly.
I would run and run until I
Was lifted into the sky.

I used to dream of a wave
That would sweep me away,
And I was not afraid.

I don't dream anymore.
I've become a bore,
Feet held fast to the floor.


Fledgling to its Mother

When I leave the nest, which way is the best,
North, South, East or West?
How do I know which way I should go?
Can't I follow you, go where you go too?

No my fledgling no, trust the wind and go.
Follow the wind, follow. Follow the wind, follow.

​Such a long way, how will I know the day
I have found the place where I should stay?
Will there be a sign that says this place is mine?
Will there be osprey on that Southern Bay?

Follow the sun's ray, it will show you the way.
Trust the wind and go, follow the wind, follow.

When I fly back to this nest I love the best,
Can I live with you, stay on this nest too?
I don't want to leave home and be on my own.
I want to stay here, oh, my Mother Dear.

Trust the osprey way, fly up and down the Bay,
Trust the wind and go, follow the wind, follow.

Fly around and one day, you'll find another osprey.
You'll build your own nest, the place you'll love the best,
You'll raise fine chicks and learn all their tricks.
Then one fine Fall day, you'll again be on your way,

Trust the osprey way, trust the sun's ray,
Trust the wind and go, follow the wind, follow.

​

Nirvana

Discontent is fertile soil for anger and hostility.
On the other hand, content spawns affability and love.
To counter the former,
And to foster the latter,
Stop willing and wanting,
Breathe slowly and deeply,
And nirvana is yours!
Or so Buddha would argue.

Let Be

Let winds blow
And leaves flutter.

Let streams flow
And waves lap.

Let swamps be
And frogs croak.

Let forests grow
And animals live.

Let children play
And birds sing.

Let thinkers think
And doers do.

Let the living live
And the dying die.

Let be what is
And is meant to be!

Gnothi Se

We are not that or this
But that we are also
Something far more.

It's only beyond first glance
And only beneath the skin
That each in all life's subtleties
May be found and grasped in full.

The Greeks said Gnothi se,
Today it's know thyself.
'Twas too challenging then,
'Tis too troublesome now!

Choice and Chance

Life is birth, death, and all betwixt.
Birth and death are fixed realities,
It is the span between that counts,
Here choice and change in interplay
Determine our decisions, shape our lives,
Here sheep and goats go separate ways.

Chance circumstances of life compel,
But choice is still for us to make.
There are those who passively allow events
To prevail with but a hapless shrug,
And those who challenge forceful chance,
Make their choice and forge their way.

Those inclined to yield to chance
Are "what happens to them."
Those who seize fate by the forelock
Are "their own happening."

​-JM

Píccola says: I will shelter in place as long as I can be with my two humans and can do the biscuit dance. 

Would you like to read a book?
Go to the shelf and take a look.
You can read a tale of woe,
You could find a place to go.
You can learn to cook a meal,
Or go swimming with a seal.

I do not want to cook a meal
I do not want to be a seal. 
I just want to sit right here
With my earbuds in my ear.

It would be more fun, just look,
If you sat and read a book.
You can listen and laugh
At the tall  Whistling Giraffe.
Or you might  cry and cry
For Old Yeller who up and died.

I do not want to laugh,
I do not want to cry.
Nothing about a giraffe,
Not about a dog that died.

I could read a book to you,
I’ll make it fun and scary too,
Or I’ll read it fast then slow,
I’ll make it so crazy you’ll see
How much fun reading can be.
 
Okay, okay, just read to me,
But I’ll be bored, you will see.
Wait, this book looks like fun,
It tells all about the sun.
 
Then , my child, come right here,
And bring your rabbit dear,
You can both sit in my lap
 Listen to me read before  your nap.
First you must put down your phone,
If you want to hear me drone.
 
Oh, Mommy I love this book,
On reading, I think I’m hooked.
Tomorrow I will read to you
My  story-- or maybe two.
 

Time for bed now, time to sleep,
I do not want to hear a peep.
 
Brush your teeth and go to bed,
Turn out the light, lay down your head.
 
You forgot to read to me!
You have to read a good story.
 
Here’s your reader from your school,
Ten minutes a day is the rule.
 
No, Daddy, you read to me!
To read to me is your duty.
 
Well, okay, just one story,
One little book, now let us see…
 
Here is How to Be a Good Sport:
This book is easy and it’s short.
 
No, I want Green Eggs and Ham,
The one about the boy named Sam.
 
I like that book so much, you see,
It is my favorite story.
 
No, no, please, not that one!
We’ve read it so much, now I’m done!
 
Yes, because I like it so,
Now come on, try it, have a go.
 
You can read it fast or slow,
I’ll like it either way, you know.
 
Read it with a funny voice,
Or read it loud, it is your choice.
 
Read it to me now, I plead,
Get out Green Eggs and start to read.
 
Listen to me now, my child,
I’ll read about the things so wild,
 
Goodnight Moon, I’ll even read,
That is a sacrifice, indeed.
 
Knufflebunny, Little Bear,
Perhaps The Tortoise and the Hare.
 
No, Green Eggs and Ham is all
I want, so do not stall.
 
No, I will not read that book,
Now you must let me off the hook.
 
I will read it by myself,
Just go and get if off the shelf.
 
Yes, now you can read, it’s true,
I do not have to read to you.
 
Every night I’ll let you sit
And read your own story a bit.
 
While I sit and watch TV
And sip upon a nice iced tea.
 
No, you must still read to me,
I like to listen too, you see.
 
If Green Eggs is not your choice,
Then I will find another voice.
 
To the library I’ll go
To find a book you’ll love, I know.
 
Do you like to read by chance
About the Captain Underpants?
 
We could read a Goosebumps book;
They’re full of terror, gore and gook!
 
No, I don’t like any of those
That you have just proposed.
 
I will tell you, child of mind,
I’ll go to the attic to find
 
My box of books I loved back when
I was a child of six to ten.
 
Full of stories I liked the best,
Of dragons and brave knights on a quest.
 
Of the spider who did spin
A web so her pig friend could win.
 
Stone Fox who gave up the race
So Will and his dog could win first place,
 
Children who lived all alone
In a caboose they called home,
 
Robin Hood, who was so brave
But also somewhat of a knave.
 
Now that’s a good idea, Dad.
Find a book that makes us glad.
 
Choose one that we both enjoy,
Maybe about a dog and a boy?
 
But now please turn out the light,
I think I’ll forego the book tonight.
 
 

 

                    The Caged Bird
 
Once a man was working in his study when he heard a beautiful song coming through the open window. It was so striking that he stopped his work and went outside to find the source. The song stopped when he came into the garden. The man stood very still and waited. Soon he heard the song again. His eyes followed the sound until he saw a small bird perched on a branch in the apple tree. The bird was not that pretty; it was drab brown with just a hint of yellow on its breast. But the man was drawn to it just the same. It stopped singing as soon as he came near, so he went back into his study to work.
The next day, the man heard the bird again and again he took a break from his work to  listen to it. Soon this became a habit, and he began to anticipate its arrival, heating a cup of tea and going out into the garden to wait for its song. The bird became tame and began to  sing in the man’s presence. He would sit for a while listening before returning to his work. As Spring came, his tea breaks became longer and longer.
This continued throughout the Spring and then summer. But the man began to worry that the bird would leave in the Autumn, to fly away to warmer lands. What could he do? Finally, he decided he would have to keep the bird from flying away. He went to a fancy pet shop and bought a beautiful cage, which he hung from the apple tree. He put bird treats in the cage. At first, the bird wouldn’t approach the cage, but the man kept trying different treats and finally one day, the little bird entered the cage. The man quietly closed the door to the cage. He felt bad but what could he do? He couldn’t bear to lose his little bird.
The man fed his pet bird well and talked to her. She was used to his voice so she was not frightened. She would cock her head and listen then respond with a quick chirp. After a while, she began to sing again. The man was relieved. It appeared that his little bird was happy. As Autumn approached and the weather grew colder, he brought the cage inside at night. He even put a little blanket in her cage, which she seemed to like. Then the rains came and he kept her cage inside all day. The little bird sang less. But the man reasoned that wild birds sang in the Springtime, not in the Winter. His little bird seemed content enough.
The Winter was a long one and the man found the little bird to be good company. In turn, he treated her well. He fed her choice food, gave her toys to play with, talked to her, and even put music on the phonograph for her listening pleasure.  He put her cage by the window so she could look out. Sometimes he worried that she seemed a bit lethargic and her feathers were losing their sheen. But again, he reasoned that it was Winter and this would be true of all birds, wild or tamed. He thought about opening the door of her cage to let her fly around the house, but he was worried that she might injure herself.  Or find an open window and fly away. And wasn’t he providing her all that she needed?
Finally Spring arrived again. The tulips and daffodils burst into bloom, the air grew warm, and then the apple tree bloomed. One day, the man put the bird’s cage back into the apple tree. “Sing, little bird,” he said. “It is Spring. Be glad and sing.”
But the little bird did not sing. She fluttered her wings a bit and flew against the cage bars. Then she settled on her perch and just sat. The man did not know what to do. That day, he spent much of the day in his study working. When he went out at sunset to bring the cage in, he found his bird sitting listlessly on the bottom of the cage. Was she sick? Had she gotten too cold?
The next day, the man kept the cage inside and even put in an extra blanket. The bird flew to the bottom of the cage to sit on the blanket. Oh, so she had been cold, the man reasoned. He felt better. But the next day was the same. Despite a warm sun, the bird just sat on the blanket on the bottom of the cage. She didn’t sing, she didn’t even chirp when the man brought her a special treat. All that day it seemed to him that she was looking at him reproachfully. But he didn’t know what to do about it.
That week, the man spent much time with his bird, talking to her,  plying her with treats, and whistling tunes to entice her to sing. “Get well, little bird,” he urged. “I need you, I can’t bear to lose you.” But she just sat and looked at him, without even one chirp.
That night, the man had a dream. In the dream, his beloved bird called “Let me out “
“But you will fly away,” the man answered in his dream.
“Possibly. But if you don’t let me out, you will surely lose me.”
The man awakened. In the dark, he went over to the cage and felt the door. It was still locked. He opened the door and went back to bed.
In the morning, remembering his dream, the man jumped out of bed and ran to the cage, fearing the worst. But his little bird was on her perch fast asleep. Should he close the door of the cage then? But still under the influence of his dream, the man left the door open. If his little bird left, well then, that was her wish.  And she would be free.
Later in the morning, as the man was in his study, he heard a little chirp. Looking up, he saw the little bird fly into his study. She sat on the lamp by his desk and cocked her head. She sang a little song, as the man sat very still, then she flew off again.
“Thank you, little bird,” he called. “Fly wherever you wish around the house. But please be careful.”
That afternoon was a warm one and the man wanted to open the windows. But then his bird could escape. What should he do? He found her resting in her cage. So he shut the door of the cage and took it outside into the garden. His little bird looked around and gave a little chirp. But she did not sing.
“Sing, little bird, sing for me. It makes me so happy.”
But she was silent.. The man watched her, thinking. Finally, he stood up, went over to the cage and opened the door. His heart full of dread, he watched as she perched on the edge of the cage door then flew up into the apple tree. Soon he heard her singing. It seemed to him that her song was more beautiful than ever before. But his heart was heavy.
The man was sad, but he knew he must let his little bird be free. So he left the cage open, bringing it in at night and putting it back out when the sun had warmed the garden. The little bird would fly around the garden, then perch and sing. Eventually she would return to the cage. She seemed to like to sleep inside at night.
One day, the little bird did not return to the cage in the evening. She was still gone the next day and the next. The man was sad, but he knew he had done the right thing. He no longer put the cage outside. Then one evening at dusk, as he sat lonely in the garden, dreaming of his bird’s beautiful music, he heard a chirp.
Looking up, he saw his little bird. She perched on his chair and looked at him. “Hello, my friend,” the man said quietly. “Have you been on holiday? Have you had a grand old time?” The bird gave several chirps.
“And are you now going to fly off again? I imagine you have a mate hidden in that apple tree?”
The little bird just kept looking at him. It appeared that she was trying to tell him something. The air was getting cold. The man stood up to go inside. The little bird flew beside him. He opened the door and she flew inside then went to her cage, where the door stood open. She sat on her blanket, then looking at the man, she sang a most beautiful song.
That night, the man had another dream. This time, his bird flew out of the open cage. Soon she returned. And she spoke to the man in a musical language. “If you had kept me imprisoned in your heart, doing your bidding, I would have beaten myself to death against the cage. But, because you freed me and allowed me to be myself, I have returned. I will stay as long as the cage remains open and I can fly at will. And no, I have no mate, for you are the one I love.”
The man awakened with tears flowing down his cheeks. He ran to the cage where his little bird was sleeping on her blanket.  She opened one eye, then she fluttered up to perch at the door of the cage. He reached out his hand and she flew onto his palm. Softly, ever so gently, he stroked her feathers. And as he did so, he heard a new sound from his beloved little bird, a soft chirp, more like a contented coo. And now he understood.
 
-MW

Be Thankful

I'm bent
I'm rent
I'm spent,
but
You're here
You're near
You're dear,
so
Let's recall
Let's relive
Let's rejoice,
and
Be thankful
For it all!


To Express or to Suppress

Love expressed is love addressed,
Love suppressed is love egressed,
Anger expressed is anger diffused,
Anger suppressed is anger confused.
Generosity expressed is generosity used,
Generosity suppressed is generosity abused,
Kindness expressed is kindness appreciated,
Kindness suppressed is kindness eviscerated.


The Inevitable

I loved her well
And she did me.
Our lives entwined,
The richer for it.
But part we must
And part we did,
Too soon, too quick,
Too unprepared.
And now I sit
And wonder why
I cry and stare,
And wait my turn!
 
(written upon the death of his German Shepherd in May 2006)


Lovers and Children

Lovers are very much like children,
Love exclusive of all others
Is their common passion.
Their demands are tyrannical,
Resultant frustrations are explosive,
Tranquility quickly becomes rage,
And spent love yields to smoldering hate!
And we wonder why, and cry.

​-JM

Píccola says:

I give unconditional love. I am always overjoyed to see my humans after an absence of only a few hours. I am sad when they leave. I never ask questions. All I ask is to be loved in return.

Wisdoms from JM

Man and woman are life's ham and eggs.

Romance is flirtatious, marriage is dedication.

The demise of a marriage is no surprise when a marriage knows no compromise.

True love takes gently and gives freely.

Silent expectations are all abominations.


Bollards protect, keep away,
Keep crashing trucks at bay,
But leave spaces to go free,
For the small to exit peacefully.

Cages enclose, confine,
Keep the outliers in line,
Keep out intruders too,
But allow no escape for me or you.



They say,
This fence is for you,
To keep you safe.
But why then
Do they lock the gate?

Valentine's Day

If you know love tonight,
Rejoice in its warm light
And think of those bereft
In the dark of night.

But if love has passed you by,
Don't weep and ask why,
Be good to yourself
And learn to fly. 

-MW

 
            Life’s Choices
 
          Will you travel a
          Slowly meandering stream,
          A fragile leaf
          Floating on quiet water?
 
          Or will you ride
          Churning rapids, paddle
          Furiously
          In your protective raft?
 
          Would you rather
          Fight the current, swim
          Upstream, leap cataracts,
          Be a spawning salmon?
 
          It is your choice,
          But just remember this:
          All journeys will end in
          In the all-embracing sea.


          Seasons of the river
 
          Shaded violets bloom
          Wheat fields sprout sturdy green stalks
          On the river’s banks.
 
          Sun blazes, hot air 
          Golden grain sways with the wind
          O’er the river’s banks.
 
          Red, yellow, brown leaves
          Float on the river’s current
          Tumble with the flow.
 
          Land is icy white,
          Fish sleep in the cold river,
          Whose water still flows.

​
 
 River’s Journey
 
High on a mountain top
Water trickles from glacier.
Descending, gathers speed,
Joins another trickle
And another.
Now a mountain stream,
They continue downward,
Come to a valley.
Here they slow, rest,
But continue to flow,
Find an outlet
And rush down the slope.
Reach the big valley,
Join many streams
In the big river.
Blending, no longer distinct,
The slope less steep,
The waters
Flow more slowly,
But forever downstream
In perpetual flow,
Almost to a still
As they arrive at the
River mouth,
Mix with the ocean’s
Saltwater tide,
Then wash into
The great ocean
Where all is one. 

​            
Flighty Reality

All that is, is change.
Being is becoming,
A never-ending flux,
A flighty reality.

We would suspend this flight
At moments dear to us,
But sadly, good and bad
Are both part of the stream.

There's nothing left to do
But to accept what is,
To savor the painful flow
And marvel at the wonder.


Enigmatic Reality

All's ever changing
Yet ever the same,
An enigma it is.
Change is changeless
And changelessness is change!

The past's in the present,
The present's in the future,
All is but one.
Time in timelessness
And timelessness in time!

Everything is
All that it ever was
And all that it will be.
Oneness in multiplicity
And multiplicity in oneness!


Life's Steady Flow

Newborn, child,
Youngster, adult,
Husband, wife,
They come in sequence
And have their time.

Work, play,
Grief, joy,
Love, hate,
They fall in line
And have their day.

Spring, summer,
Autumn, winter,
Come and go, And all things
Join the flow!

Change is ceaseless,
All is constant,
Nothing is gained,
Nothing lost, 
A wondrous whole!

​-JM

​Epigrams

At any one point in its course, the river is
​ everything it ever was and will ever be.

Change is life's sole constant.

What is, is change in changelessness.

Change is inevitable and time is incessant.

​There is no time but there is change.

​

​          Cultural Flow

          Cultures come and cultures go
          In a constant ebb and flow,
          They’re born with a flourish,
          Arts and science nourish,
          Until human greed
          Sprouts conflict and need,
          And the waters stagnate.
          But then, lying in wait,
          Born, as yet unknown,
          Its seeds still unsown.
          A new culture will emerge,
          Rush forth with a hopeful surge.
          And it too, will grow, then die
          Leaving behind but a sigh. 

​    
 
 
The River

​Green sprouted through deep rich earth,
Mothers everywhere gave birth.
Peace was again at hand
And the river ran.
 
Children played wild and carefree
‘Neath the leafed-out apple tree
Heedless of the treaty ban.
Still the river ran.
 
Drying leaves began to fall,
Geese flew south with mournful call.
Cold discord crept through the land.
Yet the river ran.
 
Came wan winter ice and snow,
Friend and brother were now foe.
Clashing armies took their stand.
But the river ran.
 
Then the darkest longest night,
Pale moon but a ghostly white,
Heedful few a cry heard and
Still the river ran.
 
Hope sprang forth from fountainhead
Fresh air breathed life from the dead.
Rose bloomed in the snowy land,
And still the river ran.

​-MW

Variations on a Theme

In times long past,
In an agrarian age
Of simple tillers of the soil,
There also dwelled
In castles and in mansions
A ruling aristocracy.

The tillers toiled
In submissive awe,
Indentured and with little hope.
The privileged few,
Kings, lords and entourage,
Ruled, revelled and waged wars.

All was so,
A divine arrangement,
The choice few, the lowly many.
Things then changed,
The hoi polloi erupted,
The hoity-toity paled and tumbled.

The industrial age
That flowered and flourished for years
Saw tillers of the soil become toilers in the factory.
A change in culture
Brought also a change in reign,
Industrial tycoons took scepters in hand.

Change is insistent,
A financial world's now emerged,
Brawn's been replaced by skilled indenture.
Rule too has changed,
A new few are now in charge,
Corporate capitalists now firmly enthroned.

​-JM


Epigrams

At any point in its course, the river is everything it ever was and will ever be.

What is, is change in changelessness.

Change is inevitable and time is incessant.

There is no time but there is change.

​Change is life's sole constant.

Burn steady, candle, burn bright,
Let neither sword nor sorrow dim thy light.
May those who fear draw on thy might,
May those who hate know love tonight.

Feed the hungry, warm the cold,
Lift the timid, calm the bold.
Heal the hurt, comfort the ill,
Those who fight send thy goodwill.

Those who grieve lend will to live,
Help the wronged learn to forgive.
The enslaved free through thy light,
The enslavers teach wrong from right.

Burn steady candle for us tonight,
Be the star with beaming light,
Guiding us in darkening sky,
Bringing hope and peace from on high.

​MW 2000 

Church in Oslo, where my great grandparents were married, taped by MW.

Song and Light, LIght and Song,
Lift your voice above the throng.
For one night, let us rejoice;
Let us sing with one voice.

Strangers walking down the street
One another cheerfully greet.
Carollers their music share,
Joyful songs fill the air.

Where one normally would see
Bluish cast of TV,
Tree lights cast their ruddy glow
From a brightly lit window.

Shoppers stroll with a smile,
Never mind the extra mile.
Families join to talk and feast,
Nations call truce, west and east.

What night this that brings such light,
Song and joy and Peace on Earth?
What night? Why, 'tis the night
When we welcome Christ's birth.

​MW 1995

Ring Out Wild Bells
words by Alfred Lord Tennyson, Music traditional

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light,
The year is dying in the night,
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow,
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite,
Ring in the love of truth and right; 
Ring in the common love of good.



I recommend finding the original poems to read, as each has more stanzas that are highly relevant to today's world.  


Heartfelt thanks to my two music teachers who helped me with these recordings.

I Heard the Bells
words by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, music by Johnny Marks

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play, 
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom 
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said; 
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; 
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."
 
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!