I haven’t written on this site since October, and I’m not sure how to proceed. I’m having a winter hangover today, but really wanting to feel alive and hopeful. I’m listening to various versions of Vivaldi’s Spring. Isn’t it amazing how much emotion musicians show as they work their instruments? This has always fascinated me. I am entranced with Itzhak Perlman’s expressions. Watching him play the violin reminds me so much of my grandfather, who played the cello. I guess this is how I feel today. At least I have a poem for it. And a sweet picture of my grandsons.

How to Be Sad

If you listen without language, you may hear
my grandfather playing Brahms on the cello,
grunting every now and then with the effort
of an old man soon to die. He played for me

that spring I lay sick with pneumonia.
I was nine and lonely for my mothership,
her planets and galaxies preparing me
for a life of stargazing and solitude.    

Although at times I say too much, there is much
I will never say.  If you are sad, go to the ocean.
There, is music. Lay your tongue aside, listen.
May you hear the stillness between breakers.