Meditation on Shimmering Palms and Floaters

Meditation on Shimmering Palms

On more days and nights, an invalid,
In pain and loss, I often just want to go...
Unconscious;
But then, again, I stare out
To the wind and sun
From our upstairs
Window;

There towering above, 2 lone palms
In sight from my weak haven,
Swaying in that blue expanse
In a lively coastal wind,
Their mop-tops of slender fronds
Shimmering
Like flashing magnesium flares
From brilliant reflecting
Sunshine.

Those two undulating sentinels dance
over/above my fading consciousness,
Ailing awareness--
Two unconscious messengers,
While I lay here filled with sacred
Remembrance, mindful
Of my former festive living,
Becoming, and doing...

Yes, the wonder of being a human primate
Living!
but finite so brief,

This
Gift,
this Present
Shimmering--
Then we’re gone.

Only the Center, the Light
Everlasts.



-Dan Wilcox

--
FLOATERS--a poetic reflection on autumn, the season,
and late life

I, often spent to despair,
For lost hope yearning;
Tried for years to rescue others
Caught in those tangled news hours
Of hellish hate, intolerance, despair,

Wrong right-leftist spinners,
Those creedalists and secularists
Both deniers of the morally real--
Their abyss of modern sheol winter.

Stop!
Abandon this somber cellared lament,
this dirge,

Instead, listen to hope!
My sweetheart suggests,
Let’s visit
A coastal winery!
Say, I do,
We do.

Hobbling with walker out,
She drives along a winding river valley,
We arrive, expectant,
Hoping for zest;
Then, listening to soft music,
Sipping small glasses of moscato and merlot

Enjoying a glad refreshment day,
Mellow and casual,
Light of heart,
Carefree, contented
In California’s autumn’s wonder
Below tall sycamores and elms;

After Thanksgiving before winter;
We bask in 86-degree warmth,
When unexpectedly a slightly curled
Leaf floats down before
My eyes,
And lands gently on my lap,
A died wonder for us to behold;

Then another drifter
Lets go from a large limb above,
A deep rust-brown leaf spattered
With light tan highlights and vein-lines,
Descends in front of us,

Swaying back and forth,
Languid,
Lightly
Floating down
Inches away from us,
Landing nearby
On the lawn;

I lay with my head way back,
Gazing up to the sky's azure blue,
As other gifts let go every few moments
From high above,
Swinging wide and gentle,

Falling beauty in slow motion,
Floating, swaying;
I realize—here, now--
With this Present--
I could die free, released.


In the LIGHT,

-Dan Wilcox

The Wonderment of the Moment

Are you goal oriented? Focused on your plans and dreams?

Seeking to become all that you can be? Hoping for a better tomorrow?

Given to what ought to be?

I sure am, and have been all of my life,
especially in my 30’s and 40’s…But once and a while I step back,
and remember to experience the wonderment of this present moment.

As I wrote once in these lines of presence:


Marathon gunner in the fast lane
Hastening faster and faster,
You that break the home barrier but
Hang in the void of the morning's dash

Held back by the hog of the rush,
Fidgeting the taillights'
Gating hurry to the sixth power
While your family's lives asteroid by;

Slow up by the lush garden side
And smell the satined moments;

Pleasing is the scented bask
In the warm temporariness
Of fleeting ephemeral's harvest;

Shelter under Life's tree,
Tasting the clustered presence
And the fruitage of your offspring.

Lay down the bulging semi of yet to be driven
That Sisyphean hauling up never's pass,

Up the mountain of perpetual regress
And stroll in the rainbowed 'midst'
Of the infinite trees of brief

Up the lightly leaved path
Welled in the soft shading of Now,
Oh needful son.



First published in La Fenetre International
Literary Magazine


In the Light,

Daniel Wilcox