Windy thinking….
New Edition of Aweigh of Life
I’ve recently republished Aweigh of Life with IngramSpark. The new edition is published under my name, Patricia Morgan, and is available through the usual sources on line. Besides making a few grammatical corrections, this new version includes some maps (at the request of readers) and photos. What has been lost in republishing is all the…
Do you know the story?
At first glance, what do you see? I would not have noticed but for my daughter. She was driving me to the Portland Union Train Station to catch a train to Seattle. Going up Burnside, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the street and her hand reached across my face, angling back a…
Certainty, Be Gone
Oh, certainty. My thought is that “certainty” is a dangerous word indeed. It pours concrete on thoughts and ideas. It shadows and darkens how the sun should shine and glisten off a still pond. It stills the wind on which the spread of an eagle’s wings glides. It allows every gazelle to escape the jaws…
Thoughts on the world
It might be gray and somber, slow turtle-sleeping day for creatures big and small. Or a blue-sky day through which a red-tailed hawk streaks. It’s a changing mirage, one that is out there and one that is nowhere; a world one can’t hold onto nor let go; one that reveals beauty and one in whose…
For Lahaina – Eha loa ko’u naau
It’s been over a month since Fire took an old friend’s life, a friend I neglected to visit for more than 50 years. She was a friend that held me in my youth and taught me some wholesome ways — and some not so wholesome ways — to show me the difference in the paths…
The Weaver of Words
The blue curtains are still half closed as to not disturb the cobweb that had been built the night before. She is thankful the sun had glistened off its threads in such a way that it had caught her eyes before jerking the curtain wide open to let in the morning. She moves…
Do societies idealize romantic love
Do our societies idealize romantic love at the expense of other forms of love? Responding to a prompt offered up in a workshop I’m participating in (The Dharma of Relationships, Paramis in Action), as is my nature, this question has flipped on the switch of a huge spotlight to explore what lies behind the myths…
Earth Day Earth Way
I add my name To those with more fame Who point out the blame Of those who inflame The senses of the earth And all those who gave birth. And I add my name to the cries of dearth Who others claim to have no worth. Seldom sustained in political discussion While ignoring earth’s pending…
Traveling on wafting fingers of smell
The wafting fingers of smell will connect me instantly to places in the past via the invisible subway of time, coursing through memories that otherwise would be lost. Or maybe they were never there. For the strangest reason, chopping an onion invariably takes me to the corner of two streets whose names I can no…
What color am I?
I’m red when I’m angry and Yellow as a quiet spring morning I’m peach-dressed azures at sunset But never am I orange. I’m rich browns and siennas of the desert And all shades of green in a meadow I’m blue in my aloneness But vibrant purple in a crowd
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