BEAR

Photo by S. Auberle

BEAR

"Do we even know

who and where we are?

We are human seekers

peekin' through the glass..."

- Warren Nelson

It's a bear kind of morning,

waves of yellow and purple flowers

whispering in foggy bogs,

loons calling

it's a bear kind of morning,

all that thick, misty, green

light, bear light,

there--starting to cross the road,

last year's cub

I brake,

he stares for a moment,

then circles back into the trees.

Do we even know

who and where we are?

That bear might know

more than me,

might not even be a bear

on this bear kind of morning,

might be Spirit in fur coat,

shapeshifter

shaman

Tecumseh, Crazy Horse

Mother Theresa, the BuddhaBear

Henry the VIII, Jesus the Christ

my mother,

because anything's possible

you know, don't you?

On a bear kind of morning...

- mimi

A TIME

Photo by S. Auberle

"Houses live and die: there is a time for building

and a time for living and for generation

and a time for the wind to break the loosened pane

and to shake the wainscot where the fieldmouse trots

and to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto."

- T. S. Eliot

from "East Coker"

CIRCUS

Osho Zen Tarot Card

CIRCUS

Sometimes it's hard to believe

I don't belong to the circus.

- Sam P.

Knew a man once

who signed his notes

with these words

and when I said

Sam, you are your own circus

he allowed that it was

the most insightful thing

anyone had said to him in years.

We all have these annoying committees

in our heads,

why not a circus instead?

For decision-making

we'd have a lion CEO,

fierce tigers to guard us,

some bears and dogs

to jump through hoops

so we wouldn't have to, and

on days of needed distraction

men in shiny tights...oh yeah.

We'd have glittery, long-legged ladies

to dance the dark away, a clown

for sad-faced days and horses for nobility.

There'd be elephants to lift us high above all

and lastly, an elegant ringmaster

to oversee our flag-waving Big Top

where the crowd's approving roar

would never end, no matter

if and how badly we screwed up

and all of it under a blazing summer sky

where we'd be ten years old again...

forever.

- mimi

MORNING RAIN

Photo by S. Auberle

morning rain

dark dawn

July has vanished

in her best

flowered dress

leaving us

wondering

if she'll ever return

- mimi

WON'T YOU TELL ME

Hot Springs Terrace - Yellowstone
photo by S. Auberle

Won't you tell me

where to find

the unknown gods

I've passed by

all these years?

It's time...

they're calling.

- mimi

WHOEVER WE ARE

Photo by S. Auberle

Back from the West, once again in my northern country. Eyes adjusting again to a more intimate landscape.

Sitting here writing at dawn on the Fourth of July, under a red sky--red in the morning, sailors take warning--my grandma always said--she who couldn't have been less of a sailor--subscribed to that theory and I find, more often than not, it holds true.

Watching a pair of cardinals on the feeder and one pudgy seagull strolling across my yard. Piano music, tea and scones. I love awakening to the first birdsong at 4:00 a.m. now, as the earth turns once again toward darkness. Around summer solstice birds began singing about 3:30 a.m.

The first line of a poem to be written comes to me: won't you tell me and I wonder what it is I want to be told.

Sadness--thinking of the recent funeral and this brevity of life...

Happiness--for my Western journey and the one who shared it with me and for this place, this time, these people--the person who left a bag of sweet peaches on my front porch to find when I returned...

Jim Harrison says "whoever we are isn't for certain."

I believe that.

- mimi

HOMEWARD BOUND

Still out here in the magnificent West, but back to my beloved north woods soon.

There is no other word for Yellowstone Park but awesome, however, hiking a ledge above the Yellowstone river next to a 1,000 foot drop to the water below gives me pause. We are heading toward Point Sublime, another half mile up the rim, but I'm thinking this may be as sublime as it gets for me. My fear of heights is kicking in, added to that the possibility of grizzlies and while trying to remember whether you make yourself tall or small when encountering one of these giants, my quest for sublime is fading.

And what is sublime, anyway? One of those words you know, but hear rarely, and are not really sure of the meaning. Seems to me it means the best, in a relaxed, mellow sort of way. I'm thinking of other ways to experience sublime, such as enjoying a glass of chianti and watching the light fade on the Tetons...

- mimi