Surprise! Birthday

Just a quick note to let you know that we can now reveal the traveling.  We're back in Boston and just left an extended Surprise Birthday Party for our younger sister. We couldn't reveal what we've been doing or where for fear of blowing our cover. More details soon. In some ways, Thomas Wolfe was right, "you can't go home again." Just as Heraclitus was right to tell us that we can't step into the same river twice. (Both we and the river are constantly changing.)

Boston Garden, Frog Pond from Four Seasons Hotel

Photo by J. Harrington

Crossroads

Joyce Sutphen

The second half of my life will be black 
to the white rind of the old and fading moon. 
The second half of my life will be water 
over the cracked floor of these desert years. 
I will land on my feet this time, 
knowing at least two languages and who 
my friends are. I will dress for the 
occasion, and my hair shall be 
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old 
birthday, counting the years as usual, 
but I will count myself new from this 
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift, 
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder, 
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road. 
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed, 
fingers shifting through fine sands, 
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet. 
There will be new dreams every night, 
and the drapes will never be closed. 
I will toss my string of keys into a deep 
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.