Aaltoe’s Blog

A patchwork of branches
Framing a turbulent sky
Clouds, bits of blue.
A restive state
embodyies entrapped energy,
alternative directions swirl
restrain impulses to move
sharpen the edge of anxiety
blur purpose
cloud self reflection.

Is the path ahead
found from from within
by ingenuity
or just from exhaustion,
or is it found from without
by some lucky glance
up an opportune alley?
Wherever found the rush of energy
may overwhelm judgment.

Would that caution could temper release,
could open horizons
as well as destinations
could employ the restive energies
in productive ways
that would open new and beautiful paths
on which one could sometimes walk slowly
and savor their beauty.

May Day
Celebration
trees budding
announcing life
embodying energy and hope
forcefully, innocently, without reservation.
So hard to reconcile
with vaccine resistance
rupturing the right to vote
deliberate disinformation.

The beauty of the day calls for
Celebration
the magic of the wind blown chimes
the persistent bird songs
the cloud muted heat of the sun
interfere with negativity
undermine pessimism
frustrate disappointment.
An optimistic aura
holds its own
against the negativity
conjured from within
or imagined from without.

The beauty of the day calls for
Celebration.
for forgiveness and forgetting,
for love and remembering
those who have mattered
and those who might have mattered.

(more…)

That inner quiet
more present now
finding a receptive partner.
The steady grey day helps sustain
that fragile relationship,
enlarging the space of conversation
the domain of thought
the limits of patience
the compass of curiosity.

How can the riches of that inner world
best be explored, even described?
Deep pools of crystal clear water
pale blue,
canyons of ice
with forms of near perfect geometries,
forested groves of lush green
with graceful glades
that invite exploration
on paths that have no end
but reveal one precious view
after another
and destinations previously hidden.

The contrast of apparent simplicity
with experienced complexity
shrouds the secrets
making them accessible
only to the settled mind
the bold spirit
open to seeing things
over and over
and gaining new meaning
each time.

Brightness warmth
sow soothing sun,
clouds with independence
form their own places in the sky,
high haze qualifies the blue.
Warm not hot
near perfect gift
from late April.

What will May bring,
and then June?
Days like these pull the year together
through repetition
and mild differences.
They also set the stage
for very different days
which add their furnishings
their different actors
their more dramatic scripts
that strain the themes and the structure
of the surrounding narrative.

But today these can only be imagined.
This day is steady and beautiful
it builds resilience
the capacities to embrace,
endure, and enjoy
those other states
that push the limits of life.

Quiet rhythms
Attenuated moments
Grayness barely interrupted
By shifting clouds
By auto lights and rumblings of trucks
Long sighs of reflection
Memory slow to waken
Not to interrupt,
Amplifying the senses
Drowning out thought.

The inner quiet
So often hiding
Allows a glimpse
Then a longer view.
So comfortable, so secure, so strong.
Timeless
And with capacity to absorb the new
To give it room to explore
Without limits
Probing the deep pools
Of the imagination
Constructed from years of probing, digging, searching
But without the burden of those efforts.

Thunder and lightning intrude
And the visit must end
Throwing a cloak
Over what those penetrating gazes saw,
Protecting it from further interference
But nevertheless
Leaving a glow of that inner world.

How different
this year from last
trees budding out
with greater joy
because of COVID’s slower spread
despite human stubbornness
and failure to act protectively.

This spring speaks hope
sparks thoughts
of the cycle of life
once again finding its rhythm
once again a healing salve
for our wounds of withdrawal.

Tiny petals first ablaze on the trees
now delicately decorate
the floor of the porch,
thickening of the canopy
as the sun demands of the trees
to be shrouded.
Temperature rises,
and beds of daffodils declare their places
in stunning yellow,
weeping willows win the race
to show spring in its early splendor.

What are the different species of mind
that begin to flourish
with greater intensity
that stir the loins
that quicken the pulse
and energize ambition?

Shining hope is surely one
outrageous impulse another
youthful yearning plays a role
and love lurks behind.

One can marvel at these changes
and hope to link them
to people who are close
whom one respects,
even to oneself!
and to find ways,
alongside nature,
to build them into
ongoing streams
of regrowth and rediscovery.

A sudden blow
Abrupt reminder
That nature doesn’t
Indulge languorous
Episodes for long
But hurls herself
When she feels like it
Often with substantial impact.

In-between she strengthens us
And all there is
And then from time to time
She tests that strength.

She just gave a strong hint
Of what more she might have done
Had she been so inclined
But left us able to cope
And able to consider
The likelihood of further contests
Between her sprightly escapades
And her gracious gifts of life.

Indeed this blow is just part of
The ecology of places
We are fortunate to occupy.
It reminds us
That adaptation to place
Is a constant exercise
In observation and adjustment.

If more complacent
We have to rationalize the damage
And complain about what is
Beyond our control.

But with greater adaptive skills
The more vividly we can
Experience nature’s forces at work,
The more we can become true witnesses
And even participants
In the extraordinary processes of
Environmental flux,
Becoming the richer for it.

More than a year

of not being with friends

or meeting new ones.

More than a year

of not wandering streets

engaging strangers

for whatever reasons.

More than a year

of not attending concerts

theaters, or any public events,

of perfecting vicarious experience:

a futile exercise.

More than a year

of Trump’s outrageous behavior

inciting extremist groups and individuals

and their antisocial acts

challenging societal norms

threatening the structures

of democratic society.

More than a year

during which

Lynn died.

I find myself

reimagining her personage

marveling at her character.

How fortunate have I been

to have shared her life.

More than a year

during which my family

has rallied to my support

to sooth my melancholy

to help find strength

through their accomplishments,

joy through their being.

Perfectly clear, calm,
Sharp shadows
Serenity of the chimes nearby
The quiet roar of reduced traffic
Each day marking a beautiful extreme
For days ahead.

Older people presumably with their shots
Enjoying each other in restaurants
Others crowding sidewalk cafes
All masking larger changes ahead
Unclear in their outline
Let alone their detail.

The world still under attack
From wily viruses
That take new forms
And flaws in the systems of distributing the vaccines.
Is it ignorance, arrogance, opportunism, selfishness
Or “political” behavior of the worst sort
That militates against achieving high levels
Of herd immunity?

So hard to balance
The brightening prospects
Against the ingenuity of the virus
And the prevalent reticence.
Is it surging hope against
Stolid stupidity
Leading to giddy irresponsibility,
The whole community
Dissolving into a caldron of
Hideous self-defeating laughter and squabbles?

Nearly spring
Nearly shrouded by trees
Roofs speak
Their age
Their excellence in design
The lives and preferences
Of the people who live there,
But also their similarity
In what they must do:

Protect, enclose, accommodate.
They express their individuality
In how they address
What surrounds them – other houses, streets,
Backs and fronts.

And the roofs reveal,
The profile and contour
Of interesting interior volumes
And lives,
Sloped roofs crafted of slate, now metal,
Displaying wealth with conspicuous modesty.

The roofscape elements,
Their similarities of sizes and proportions
Of openings, of gable ends, of roof pitches
Create a neighborhood identity
Perhaps stronger
Than than those of the individual houses.

Now to the stern and sturdy chimneys.
Carefuly contrived,
Deliberately shaped
They are a set of personalities
Of their own,
Profiled against the sky,
With their own lives,
Speaking to one another in ways
Only chimneys can.