Friday morning:
I feel too full of can't this morning.
Can't cope.
Can't deal with it.
But I am trying to can.

Friday evening:
I could
I did
I can

trying to find my voice -
trying to keep going +
trying to be positive /
trying to just be *

the 2020s so far have been challenging
and I wonder what's next
love
hope
questions
pointers to memories
a stack of work
a heap of new change

Today someone opened a box of darkness
and threw the contents all over me.
It got into my eyes and teeth,
and drowned my mind
'til I could hardly breathe.
Now I peel the scabs from my eyes
and drain the dark into ink.
I swim and swim
and wash away with words,
the shower of pain,
swim
swim
the burnt offering
the incense smoke
the fragrant coffee steam
transmogrification
holocaust
and rain

the soot in the rain
runs down my face -
shut the box -
light a candle,
survive,
I see you,
I see you,
trying to make a better world.

early morning meditation,
in the dark,
except for a single candle;
and from a streetlight, shining through the window:
a window covered in raindrops,
each a lens;
each a star,
or lenticular galaxy;
just a streak of rain;
just beauty in the dark

staying still and focusing on my breath,
not chasing happiness
but rather letting peace find me

sometimes I feel lost,
a spell of disorientation,
that I have learnt can be survived.
I breathe and recollect myself,
then take the next step.

I am angry with the ocean
because it does not love me.
It rises and falls
and the waves break on the shore,
ignoring me; regardless, I walk alone.