Spring’s Voices

at last
said the flower to the bee
you’re back, my friend
come dance with me

two birds lit upon a tree
it spoke
please stay
come nest with me

sprouts sprang from sun baked earth
eggs erupted into birth

shutters opened
windows wide
I harkened
to the din outside

the roar of life

is here again
Spring’s voices calling
let’s begin

tio stib

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River of Time

once upon 
a nursery rhyme 
I was born
on the river of time

bouncing
splashing
over waves
with fantasies
and blue sky days

then came the sound of fear
as adulthood thundered near
some hopes were dashed 
some survived
some dreams drown
while others died

river of time
river of time
we all come together 
on the river of time

and so my life has floated on
through rapids wild
past silent songs
a new adventure every day
even as my hair turned grey

river of time
river of time
carry me home
oh river of time

tio stib

2016, 2019

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Sorely Missing Wilderness

I woke with an aching soul
a yearning to be free
away, apart, alone again
just wildness and me

humanness had left me dumb
senses dulled, spirit numb
and then I heard the ancient call
smiled
walked out
and left it all

rambling down an empty road
I crossed the last frontier
and stood once more in wilderness
and heard my heart beat

here

here

here

tio stib

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Weather Systems of the Mind

I pause and know

they come
demons of darkness
black clouds
in this season of storms

valkyries

naked

my soul is lashed
bashed by fear
drowned in disappointment
chilled by frigid failure
stunned by thunderous disapproval
stumbling in the cacophony of screaming doubt

lost

I pray to survive
this weather system of the mind

tio stib

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Chocolate Chip Cookies

the sudden urge for sweet
flooded my mind
with cookie moment memories

the ecstasy
the ultimate delight
of warm, chocolate chip cookie
melting in my mouth

licking the spatula 
covered with cookie dough
savoring
each chewy  chocolate nugget

the crazed anticipation 
as the aroma of baking cookies 
silently owned the house

ring!
the timer bell
rushing to the kitchen
eyes wide as the oven door opens
the tray slid out revealing
rows of perfectly formed
golden brown cookies

salivating

is there anything better than a warm chocolate chip cookie
washed down with a cup of milk

sure there is, a half dozen warm chocolate chip cookies 
washed down with several cups of milk

“Don’t you dare!
Those cookies are for the bake sale.”

tio stib

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Life Is Like A Broken Egg

Yesterday I dropped an egg. Actually, I didn’t drop it, I surmise it rolled unseen off the counter. I heard a noise near the floor. In a microsecond, my brain flashed through the possible causes of such a noise. At about the same time, my brain reached another conclusion. The toes on my right foot were also sending signals to my sensory center. Something gooey was down there.

A broken egg!

As I groped around cleaning the shattered shell from the floor and then its contents from my foot, I pondered the symbolic relevance of this event in my life.

Yes, I tend to get lost in my own world at times.

Perhaps, I wondered, my life is like a broken egg. Here I am, marching along unseen by most of the world and then, crash! I splat into eternity, possibly making a mess for someone else to clean up as I exit.

That’s one possibility.

My mind drifted off in other directions. I remembered a structures class where we dropped eggs in specially designed containers from a third story balcony. The object, of course, was to preserve the integrity of the egg. The challenge was to do this with as little material as possible. It’s no problem to put an egg in a big box of bubble wrap and drop it unfazed onto the floor below. The trick is to drop the egg, mostly naked, with the same result. Similarly in life, I thought, there’d been times I’d insulated myself with such things as work and selfish interest so that the rest of the world couldn’t touch me, and I couldn’t touch the people who cared about me because I was too closed off from them.

There have been naked opposite times when I was raw and open, times when I felt that life had run me over and left me for roadkill. Going bankrupt and watching friends die come to mind.

My lesson from these experiences: Sometimes it’s good to overprotect. Sometimes it’s good to hurt. The pain reminds me of happier times.

All this you may say, from simply having an egg hit the floor? Yes, and there’s more.

What if I’m like an egg? A hard, durable shell on the outside and a soft sticky mess inside. My outside, that part of me I show the world, is a lot like the shell of an egg. It’s quite resistant to general pressures, quite strong when grasped firmly. But, the shell has its weak points. It doesn’t do well with pressure applied to a single point. Yes, I have my buttons. I hate cleaning up other people’s messes, such as wiping up their broken eggs. I have no tolerance for fools, which is why politics disgusts me. The egg shell is also brittle. It doesn’t do well when landing on sharp objects. I explode when subject to sharp noises, and am even more violent when subject to the sound of barking chihuahuas.

All this from a broken egg.

My last thoughts on this surprisingly deep self-dialog. How do you crack an egg? I use two hands. Even so, I often make a mess of this simple action, sometimes striking a nearby surface so hard that the shell cracks open and leaves a trail of egg goo from there to the frying pan. (This is a clue to what I usually do with eggs, hinting at my limited cooking repertoire). Sometimes, when my mind is somewhere else such as now, I fail to hit the egg hard enough,it doesn’t crack, waking me from my reverie to initiate another strike on the shell. This usually results in the previously mentioned egg goo trail.

What does this say about my life? I tend to be overly cautious and conservative. Do I lack faith in my creative abilities to expand my egg cuisine? Maybe I’m just lazy.

One of my goals for the New Year is to learn how to crack an egg with one hand. I think this may take quite a few eggs. I’ve heard that gin fizzes are a good use for egg whites and an easy way to forget about life’s deeper concerns.

Like how my life is like a broken egg.

tio stib
2014, 2016, 2018

First published in January, 2014, but since I haven’t mastered the one handed egg crack yet, I decided to publish this again to remind myself of goals I’ve yet to attain.

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