Magpie Tales 65 - Poem: The Origin

Where do the winds of Assisi

that sweep birds aloft,

dash butterflies gently off course

originate? Winds that kissed

the bearded face of St. Francis

that brought stillness to all creatures

around him. Their assemblage

replete with order.

Is there a beginning of such grace?

Does it start of nowhere and become?

Is it thrown swiftly underhand

by God himself?

And when it settles—   where

does it go?




2011© Michael A. Wells



Magpie Tales 65

Confession Tuesday

Tuesday brings me to the confessional once again.

Dear Reader:

It's been one office baseball day and another official work sanctioned holiday since my last confession.

No wonder last week seemed to go by fast. Admittedly the perception of how fast the week is going by can have an impact on my general disposition. It's true. For example since we had Monday off it made the weekend a three day weekend form me and this coupled with being out of the office most of the day Thursday for our office Royals baseball event really has impacted my view of both last week and the week. I confess this is however not all good, It make the week seem to go quickly which I love. It can also add pressure to get more done in less time. It's the price you pay for the added value of time away from the office.

Friday night after work I attended the second exhibition of Jennifer Rivera's work at the Apex Art Space in the Crossroads District. This is the exhibition that combined poetry and painting and included two of my own poems along with the artist's painting.  This was an art date for me. A time to spend in communion with art and just take it in. To breath and experience. The first exhibition had many of my friends in attendance and I tried to spend time with each of them. It was and awesome experience but did not give me quite the ability to experience as much of the work. I confess the attention from the first night was nice, but the more reflective nature of this second experience was nice too.  I confess that I need to experience more art dates.

May your week go fast and you find some art in the world to experience!

Hungry Baby

The hungry baby pictured to the right is a baby robin nesting upon the light fixture between our two garage doors. I've been watching the mother for over a week now but this us the first time I've seen the baby. Mom has been especially tolerant of our coming and going in the car and other movement out front - though she draws the line with the garage doors themselves.

It seems we've had a bumper crop of birds this spring. Wrens, sparrows, robins, blackbirds.  Over the winter months there were both cardinals and blue jays. I'm fascinated with birds.  While I've used them on occasion in poems I've written, I don't recall going overboard with them in my writing or particularly writing specifically about them other the the geese that frequent our neighborhood during two periods each year.

It's a warn sunny day today, I have the day off work due to the birthday of Harry S Truman. I've been tackling a number of things today which fits right along with Kelli Agodon's post today. I loved it when Kelli fields questions from her readers. This post is titled: How DO You Get So Much Done?
Check it out!

Anyway, I've got more stuff to do, just checking in for now. Likely will post again much later.

Another First Friday Opportunity - Synesthesia - Poetry and Painting Exhibit Tomorrow Night

In case you missed it last month - or just want to take it in again, tomorrow is First Friday in the crossroads art district and Jennifer Rivera's Exhibition titled Synesthesia is open at Apex Art Space -  1819 Wyandotte - Kansas City, Missouri  from 6 - 9 PM. Synesthesia combines the art of poetry and painting. Jennifer has 37 paintings on display along with the poetry which inspired her creation. Two of my poems and her paintings are among them.  Music - Painting - Poetry all make for a fun night.  Hope to see you there!

A Rilke Moment

He reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter of fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there's another dog.  ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Confession Tuesday - My Cheese edition

It’s been one office move (my wife’s), lots of road construction and an end to National Poetry Month since my last confession.

Dear Reader:

Someone has moved my cheese. There was a book (author’s name escapes me) that came out in the 90’s or maybe it was even the 80’s titled Who Moved My Cheese and it dealt with how people handle change or disruption.

During this past week my wife’s office relocated. The new location is actually closer to my own office and my initial thoughts were this is a good thing. But even changes that are good can sometimes be stressful or disrupt the normal order of things. Some people do better than others with such changes. I confess that I am not one of them. There may be a lot of disorder in my life but it’s my disorder and I am accustomed to it.

The biggest issue with the move really has more to do with orange barrels then anything else. I don’t know about other states but in Missouri orange barrels and road construction are synonymous. Rather then driving in towards town, exiting before we hit downtown and dropping my wife and the proceeding through city streets I’ve driven for years it means we take the highway all the way into downtown. This involves portions of highway that are down to two lanes. It’s slower and sometime akin to a highway parking lot. I confess that right now I see a long summer of Interstate-70 delays.

This last week has also seen a disruption in my writing. Actually two weeks now, I really need to discipline myself better. I feel right now I’m teetering on the verge of being unbalanced and falling. I confess this and my cheese being moved has gotten to me.

Magpie Tales - 64 Poem: Mother

Mountains I remember.
The rocky earth
not that distant
from our splintered cabin
but there is a dearth
of mother in my memories.

I'm told as a baby
I was held a fixture
in her arms, took from her
breast and was lavished
with attention.


A hushed woman
but one to hold
her place
in the rustic life
she was given
until she vanished
from all but the faint
recall of people.

2011 @ Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 64