To live under a curse is to live under the blessing of a challenge.
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a journey of awareness
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2010
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September
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- Canary in the Mine
- Death Is a Door
- Mine to Give Away
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- The Center of the Universe
- The Bend at the End of Summer
- Six Questions on Healing
- Traveling to the Wilderness
- Predictable or Unpredictable?
- Toxic Fires
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- Interesting Times
- Solid or Free
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- Watching Others Suffer
- Bad News, Good News
- Blind Men
- Are We Doomed?
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- The Lowest Moment
- Two Minds
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- Giving Forgiveness
- Like Miners Tapping
- Altering the Universe
- What Am I Lacking?
- Without My Help
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September
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About me
- HK Stewart
- I grew up in Christian fundamentalism, went to hell, came back, became a Presbyterian then a Buddhist Presbyterian, and now I'm a profane Presbyterian Zen Taoist -- not that I'm into labels or anything. Here's what I've learned so far: The more you know, the more you know you don't know.
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Notes from the Hills
When it was January
We used to fear ice storms
We used to run out of gas
To heat the cabin
Now the sun blisters
Chinks out of the logs
It’s too hot to breathe
And the wolf-dog’s fur
Scabs off in clumps.
When it was April
We used to fear rwisters
We’d stock the basement
With pickled fruit
Now sleet sags down
Blowing the power out
As snow infests
The wolf-dog’s cubs
With bitter coughs
When it was July
We’d hide in the shadow
Of the front porch
Waiting for the cabin
To cool down
Now run-offs from the mountain
Ravage the herb garden
Where the wolf-dog lies
While its cubs scrounge for water
There are no reasons
Any more except for
What natives remember
Of bedbug infestations
And cubs scratching
Lice from their bellies
To please the rats
They drag from beneath
The cabin’s front porch
[Disposable Poem September 18, 2010]
Dr. Mike
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