Thoughts Have Hands

The rain was a relief from the heat.

It came down like a mother rushing to save her earth bound child.

Now the rain has settled into a persistent drip on my tin roof. The sound reminds of a money changer dropping silver coins one after the other,

Counting the cost of reducing the heat,

For the temperature dropped to comfortable and the humidity bearable and sitting on my little porch I could take in the air.

Unable to walk for two days straight even in early morning without the air sticking in my lungs,

This blessing felt sacramental, even though tomorrow it is certain the heat will return to burn our throats,

For we have reaped the whirlwind.

Storms will lash our homes and the heat will challenge survival, as prayers to idols of air conditioning and the electric grid become loud rites demanding human sacrifice.

Face it! The climate has changed:

Seasons have reversed polarities of human expectations,

Summer tortures,

Autumn hints at relief,

Winter whispers chills and the prospect of snow and icy cold days,

And spring tempts with a short reprieve before

Our world begins to smell like smoke again, and we retreat once more to air conditioning.

THH

6/2524

My ship doesn’t float oceans or sail seas.

My ship takes on no water,

But sinks quickly if bearings are lost,

And I can no longer see the real me.

My ship is buoyed by smiles and with friends often catches the wind,

As I converse with them.

My ship plies frank currents where I’m free to steer according to stars I see,

And when I take the helm, and by dead reckoning avoid the doldrums and heavy squalls,

I try to keep an open heart,

without fear in the strange eddies I navigate,

Especially if a good friend helps trim billowing sails on my uncharted course,

and so prevents keeling over,

Then offers safe harbor for me to weigh anchor and gladly dwell for awhile

until I disembark from the comfort of their loving spark once more.

THH

6/19/24

Today returning from an early morning walk a stick lay in my path,

With a swift unthinking kick I tried to brush it aside,

But it spun in place, moved not at all, and as I kept walking, it seemed to be mocking my lackadaisical style,

Your impulse won’t take you far, effort and stubborn intention move the world,

But if you hope to sway entropy your direction,

you must at least take time to give a damn.

THH

6/6/24

At times my center is pain: a tiny pebble dropped carelessly in a pool

made from on going rain,

Sinking to the grey bottom, concentric circles of the dead and gone float above my head, none wave hello or goodbye.

Suddenly desperate for air, I sit up in the pool made of tears, flaying in anger and fear, I wrap shaking limbs around the hardness of alone, then wonder if Job wants a new friend,

Living alone stokes memories of happy times once shared and of plans that now will never be,

Deserted by lovers and friends I mourn their loss

And grief comes home with me.

THH

6/5/24

I remember times our passion flowed stronger than wine

After the dance standing close in the kitchen I felt this slow blooming need to pull you close

The moment we touched it was ignition

Clothes dropped to the floor,

Kisses with complete submission

Time stopped but not us

We struggled like children full of glee to make to it to the bed and protect our knees

We couldn’t get enough and you completed my surging intention

You gave away everything like Halloween candy

You met me without condition, save a gentle reminder our contract was for ten with options to renew, and we made thirty four

Your disease forced me to care for you like a child as you became docile; I supported your needs without giving into passion

And when after years of loss and much confusion you drifted away I only regret the time we lost to explore each other more

Relief from the meanness of your ugly condition came but I will never forget our joyful passion.

THH

6/5/24

Fired by loss, sadness sears my heart, and makes itself at home in moments of solitude.

Sadness comes like rain, a drizzle at first, then a downpour rushing my brain, blocking avenues of escape, demanding full attention.

Sadness comes unannounced, whispers behind me, as I sigh ‘…oh, you again’.

Sadness darkens my face and sends tears to rule, upsets the routines in place.

Is it the thing wished for, left undone,

Is it the dreams left to simmer in the back of my mind, finally boiling over,

Are my habits and practice exercised with decent intent, wearing thin,

Dreams left too long on the shelf, planned celebrations too long deferred, haunting expectations.

A life chosen to support family, a duty taken seriously, while fate took a heavy toll,

Obligations given priority, believing the future would make needed room,

Not play a thief and steal vigor as I grow grey.

I learn so slowly.

The onion peels layers of time, and tears of regret form droplets,

Even listening to favorite tunes buried under heaps of on going reverie resurrect sadness hidden inside.

Does it hide behind my unending list of things to do? or like rain,

Hang out in unhappy clouds biding time until spilling over to chill a sunny day.

Sadness resides off stage, behind hope filled eyes,

Smiles of a welcoming heart,

Earnest performances intended to promote harmony,

Covering memories of so many supposed to be opportunities,

Wanting to be picked, no longer deniable,

But then the past has claws to hold me in place and each day seems another scene, like the one before and before that,

The routine provides a comfortable home but sadness crouches waiting for its chance,

As disappointment displays wonder in the opposite direction.

For sadness is part of the imperfectible nature of this man.

THH

6/1/24