A Mandala Poem
a bubble, a ticket, a leaf, a camera, a suitcase
A Journey Mandala
a bubble in the babbling brook
rushing down the stream rapids
over rocks and twigs –
thrills and chills
holding on tight
for the wild ride
like mine!
a ticket to somewhere –
anywhere, really,
that a writer can think:
log cabin with a crackling fire
leaves crunching under foot
on the path
to the front door
like those ideas
that crinkle and stir
a hidden camera
in Trafalgar Square
stalking the situations and conversations –
a people watcher on a techie level
studying human nature
considering all the lives lived
a suitcase –
a keeper of
only what is necessary
for the journey
for traveling lightly
through this world
knowing that the best souvenirs
are the memories
of presence in each moment
understanding, finally, what
Steinbeck meant when he wrote
“We find after years of struggle that we don’t take a trip;
a trip takes us.”
Common Threads 