Sunday Aloha
in
Waikiki
click on the childhood idyl
"I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things. . . I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind." Leo Buscaglia |
"God has given you one face, and you make yourself another."
William Shakespeare
Rambutan close up
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When I was very young
each day seemed a
bead
strung on the string
of my life.
Smooth beads,
happy,
filigreed,
still-soft clay;
and some were
hot
with the passions
and recriminations of
youth.
Perfectly round,
imperfectly rounded out,
one by one
each day-bead
is strung
on the narrative thread
of my life.
And now I replay them
passing the beads through my fingers
like a rosary of regret, satisfaction,
and sudden realization.
It seems that each day
one bead is contemplated,
and removed,
until I shall wear
the choker of age.
And then one day
the last burnished bead
will slip from my hands at last;
rolling along the floor of our being,
then disappearing down the wormhole
of another jeweled path
ALOHA, cloudia
