Inspired by a poem of same title
by William Stafford
What’s in My Journal?
Highly wrought notes
their slack performances
portrayed with cinematic flourish.
A messy tableau of anecdotes,
rescued by exuberant affirmations:
There's magic when you’re not afraid!
Moods of rapture but also
a tiresome focus on death,
Bursts of discovery:
Sand pebbles made of crushed bones, shells,
no two exactly alike!
The incomprehensibility of everything:
What am I but clumps of wildly spinning atoms?
And questions: Why only two genders?
The search for consolation,
trails of failed attempts,
of early understandings,
of ever understanding.
Dismay the mind is immaterial:
nothing solid in here, nothing tangible
and so totally prey to chemistry.
Protestations about life,
about this sea of chaos,
about the absence
of a universal moral code.
A fractured collage of memories
I never tire of:
full moons, shimmery seas,
Much recanting, anxious dips
into redemptive fantasy:
A divine creator?
And blessed moves into mindfulness:
I am the universe and it is me.
But mostly, unconnected thoughts