Unspoken Word
June 28, 2022

First, I removed all the clocks from my house,
then I removed the mirrors,
I watered the plants, trimmed the dead leaves
and swept the kitchen,
then I went outside and sat on my front porch,
Rumi book in hand,
I just sat there for a long while, doing nothing,
a few people walked by and I waved at them,
they waved back,
a dog barked,
I thought of a few things I had thought of before,
then I opened the book.
Rumi lived 800 years ago,
but he was rocking right next to me on my front porch,
he said something funny that made us both laugh,
for a moment we forgot who we were,
then Rumi started singing a song that made no sense,
kind of like a flock of drunken birds,
flying in a strange pattern,
with the wind at their backs.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at June 28, 2022 07:11 AM

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“I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry.”
— John Cage

Welcome to my new blog — brief ruminations on what it is that moves me (and maybe YOU, too). If any of my poems inspire you, please forward them to friends. Good muse travels fast. Or could, with your help.

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