• 3MAY

  Silence

  The vessel of our thought, full with voice, The absence of all that moves,
  A sign of doubt, Without,
  A stitch in time too still to touch, too slippery to climb.

  The zero of my world, The start and end of all I know or knew,
  With thought's unknown yet certain guest, With love, the open ended view.

• 2MAY

  As One With Many

  I have spent four days refining a piece of music to feel right before I begin its end. I listened over and over to reach the moment I felt I might start well. I had ideas about what might come, but in the fullness of time I was utterly surprised. It was like diving from the world of air to sea.

  To dive is to be the moment of flight, the touch of finger tip to liquid skin, the pierce of body from air to sea. To get things done, I feel, I am immersed, as one with many. I absorb, I am, utterly absorbed.

• 1MAY

  Once

  I think of things I have or only ever will do once: I sail along an inlet with my old friend as water gently pats the side of the boat. I part from my love in a New York apartment. I greet a member of my family for the first time, a labrador named Sam.

  I travel through this first of May but once. I breathe this breath before another, but once. With once I am mindful of the moment that opens as a petal leaf under the early morning sun.