5.

The Old and Dying

When my mother died, it was like blowing out a candle, almost as if she was ready for a vacation. When death comes, I hope it is that simple for me; perhaps living was much harder than dying, at that moment (time and place) for her; Christ being in her corner, she felt much safer, she wanted to go—, she just wasn't sure if she had enough wind to blow—, to blow out the candle. Thus, it proves: the old and dying are wiser.

#1161 [2/2/06] A Prose Poem

6.

A Light Sleepy Winter [In Minnesota: February 7, 2006]

Outside the snow is light; it's been a thin winter. Now being February, I don't think the earth fell to sleep this season; tired as it may be from a busy summer and fall. I suppose it can wait and get its sleep next year, and freeze us all to hell.

#1189 2/7/06

7.

Before Us Humans

Before us humans, God created other humans—, do not fret; heaven has its own ways, its own breath. In any case, these humans of long ago put their handprints on many a walls; built many a stone shelters; built things yet not seen.

I think they were saying—in their own cleaver way: "Look, we were here before you—whoever you are—enjoy the scenery: it's a short stay.”

#1188 2/7/06