New Cities/New Soviets

November 18, 2004

fall

A little bit of something 
is a world better than none.
     -- the Red Chef

Practice loss.
    -- Lao Tsu


You don't get through hardship by making yourself hard. You do it by lowering your head and staying quiet.

When a thing can't be sustained anymore it will end. Sadness shrinks your feeling for it until it can slip away unnoticed.

This dropping down is the last option, rendering sense for fuel. Foliage melts away in the creeping colors of flame until only a cinder is left. Plants return to the root as the weather cools.

I took a number of blows this fall.
I lost my collaborator.
I lost my mint crop on the roof.

After the sadness, sleep.
Sleep and wait.
I lost the mint crop on the roof, but I saved cuttings.

I saved cuttings, and
therefore a small springtime is written in my heart.
It is not so hard to live in New York City.



What if the human heart is like bamboo
and its least remaining splinter
is the germ of a new grove?

Posted by Sam at November 18, 2004 07:04 AM

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