Sunday

POSTED IN contemporary poetry June 8, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday

My Sunday is a gorgeous sunny day (f-i-n-a-l-l-y the sun shines!). I’m sitting on my balcony, with finches and robins flying loops in the space between two big maples trees. I’m reading the June-July issue of American Poetry Review, there are 12 new poems by Elaine Equi, a fine poet, and there’s an essay, “Why Poets Translate” I’m reading next, unless I get too distracted watching the birds.
Did I tell you about the finches that built a nest just above my balcony door? I can see the top of the female’s head as she sits on the invisible eggs warming them into eventual birth.
The male finch perches on the balcony railing and chatters at me. I’m sure in his mind I am the intruder, not him.
This in miniature is the whole drama of life on earth as one generation replaces another. But we humans complicate the drama with our emotional and intellectual natures – it’s the glory of being human that NOTHING IS AS SIMPLE AS IT SEEMS.
And so as I sit here with my book face down on my lap, watching the male finch scold me, seeing the other birds swoop between trees, and squirrels chasing each other at unbelievable speeds, I’m content to have no thoughts for a change, and just let time pass and carry me along with it.

The lawn below my balcony extends for about 45 feet, there’s a screen of trees and bushes that hides the drop-off, a cliff side that plummets down to an invisible golf course!
I can’t see the players, but I can occasionally hear them. But golf is not an intensely driven game and the players are sedate, so I’m undisturbed by their presence.
The loudest thing I hear are their golf carts! And what I can see of the golf course spread out far below me is so lovely: a diamond-shaped lake with an island in the centre, a sight always peaceful and charming, it reminds me of a Chinese painting.
This is a calming place. I’m lucky to have found it.
And to think just one mile away is ROBERT STREET, one of the longest streets in the Twin Cities that  is packed with car dealerships, fast food joints, chain restaurants, Wal-Mart, Target, other retailers, computer companies, phone, etc. etc.
The urban blight of modern America – commerce, commercial, commercialism, on it goes,
B-U-T I don’t see or hear it, it’s another world from mine. I have finches and Chinese art, quiet and calm, poetry and nature. LIFE IS GOOD.

You could say I’m philosophical today too. Mine is the real Epicurean philosophy of life as a measured pursuit of delight, not wanton pleasure but balanced pleasure. It’s in between Puritanism and Licentiousness; we avoid the extremes for the sakes of health, well-being and decency. This is all part of the philosophy of Humanism. 

It’s always great communicating back and forth with you, but in my imagination, it’s as if we were sitting together in the same spot, just talking . . .

All my Finches!

 

Daniel Brick