By Reuben Brand
Today I am not a breath,
Today I am not a tear,
Today neither am I hungry nor am I full,
Today neither do I sleep nor do I wake,
Today is the day I walk.
Yesterday I was full,
Tomorrow I will be hungry,
Yesterday I slept,
Tomorrow I shall wake.
Yesterday is gone,
Tomorrow is forever.
I cannot finish, for I did not start.
I cannot die for I have not lived.
Be humble,
Be grateful,
Behave,
Be.
Today is the day.
Stay silent.
Can you hear it?
Listen closely, and hear
The sound of a heart exploding.
A distant echo,
A far off cry,
A murmured word,
And then silence.
Today is the day,
Yesterday is gone.
Today is the day.
Tomorrow is forever.
Today is the day
I walk.
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
Reading the comments attached to Reuben’s poem I recalled Delvene Delaney in a skit with a shark circling while she reflects on all the things she can do without, finishing that she can do without her legs…she disappears under the water briefly as the shark has attacked, and re-emerges with that beautifulwry smile of acknowledgement ‘I couldn’t really do without my legs’.
I hadn’t thought of the poem when I first read it regards the physical act of walking and legs. I was bedazzled by the structure and meaning contained in the opening lines. I returned to them. They are for me like a finely woven matting on a wall as a design or a word puzzle I am attracted to read and look at again and then I go cross eyed, My brain is tangled with the opening intricacy. Which stills in the middle section. It brought tears to my eyes. The ending begins with the sense of awakening and engagement.
Can you hear it?
This is lovely Reuben.
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Sandshoe,
Thank you so much for such a beautiful response – apologies for tangling your brain within this short thought… You inspire me to write more. Thanks once again.
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To the contrary, Reuben, no apologies are called for. The exercise of reading a fascinating piece of writing so intricate in that opening developement is just that, an exercise is a work out is a pleasure.
The structure might come from an innate feel (an ‘automatic pilot’) or might be meticulously plotted but whether the former or the latter is of no consequence to the result. It appears effortless. Thank you, again.
It would be lovely to read more of your poetry, Reuben. 🙂
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I’m so lucky that I can walk
Please don’t take my legs away
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Must be a song there somewhere…please don’t take my sunshine away ect.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPn2mZy6gV4&feature=related
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Thanks for the reminder, Jules. Man, there are dozens of versions. I liked Bing Crosby and Ricky Nelson – quite different, but both way better than Dylan and Johnny Cash (who, let’s face it) is a notorious murderer of duets. And Bob couldn’t sing to save his life.
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Walking meditation.
Being in the moment
Very satisfying. Reuben.
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Like the mindfullness, Emm, I’ve been coached in this for the last few weeks.
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Algy, we did an 8 week mindfulness course at PA (Prince Alfred Hospital – not the Pig’s Arms…. although, on reflection …) when FM was facing surgery for breast cancer – nearly 5 years ago. All attendees were patients or their partners / carers. Our man is Jon Kabat-Zinn (an American prof in a major uni hosp[ital. who’s been working with patiernts having difficult pain control issues or life threatening illnesses). I had done quite a bit of transcendental meditation in the late 70s and it was a revisit to stress relief for me. I often do mindfulness meditation to get back to sleep when the black dog wakes me up around 2 or 3 in the morning.
Helps.
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I have practised mindfulness meditation for years. It’s best to start doing it at good times, so you are well rehearsed, when the things change…
It always helps me to go to sleep.
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.Our mindfulness was part of the youngest therapy. I’ve found it useful in many ways. I was probably doing it before I knew what it was. We’ve just come back from the Archbald prize exhibition and found myself being in the moment viewing some of the pieces exhibited.
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Thank you Emmjay – we are all on a path of some kind – this is just one interpretation… “There are as many paths to God as there are Souls on Earch – old Sufi saying
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*Earth* rather…
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OK Reuben, I give up. Is it a puzzle, or a conundrum? What are you? A walker, or a stalker?
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I’m a bit of both… hehe… It’s nothing more that a thought, a fleeting moment, an idea from the dark recesses of the abyss that is my mind…
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Just books of blood on frozen hearts,
While some on knees, with scarlet hands.
To woe from distant shore
A note encased in sand.
The glass etched by age and wave’s roar.
A love afloat, writ with gnarled hand,
But time’s heart so forlorn.
Is all lost to fingers golden band?
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A touch of The Benny Hill’s there Brokor. Woeing to shore.
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Always happy to have lent a hand, Helvi. Hey girls, why not have velcro bras, or front clasps?
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Many years ago, when I was still a married man, Gerard, I seem to remember the wife actually purchasing a ‘front-clasped’ bra… Somehow it just seemed wrong; it was too easy… Just not right at all! Kinda took all the fun out of taking it off… (weeeeeelll… not really! Not ALL the fun…)
😉
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Ruben, love your poem, love walking, love walking with our Jack Russell and of course with Gerard.
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Thank you H,
Lovely to hear from you…
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Nice poem Reuben… It’s amazing how much people take simple things like walking for granted, but after having been virtually chair-bound for the last couple of years, I must say it is an immense relief to be able to walk now, even though the amount of walking I do is still somewhat limited. But just to be able to do one’s own shopping without the aid of a helper; to be able to stand at the sink and wash dishes, to be able to actually cook something hot to eat; all these things I couldn’t do when I was unable to walk but had to hop around on crutches; once mundane, have become postitive pleasures now (providing I don’t overdo it and end up with a sore foot!).
Focussing on simple things like walking and how essential they are I think reminds us of a truer sense of priorities and gives us a sense of perspective which is vital to the maintenance of any semblence of sanity…
Thank you.
🙂
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Lovely reply to a lovely poem, I fractured my wrist a while ago and felt upset and angry for needing help for simple things like putting on my bra and making the bed.
What kept my spirits up was that I could still do all the walking I wanted , sorry asty about that, I assume you did not need help with bras at any time. 🙂
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I’ve only just read your comment, Helvi… and funnily enough, I’ve just responded to Gerard’s comment on the subject of bras. But didn’t you know that virtually ALL men need help with a bra at some time or other!
But it’s been such a long time since I did need such help; today all I can say is, “The chance would be a fine thing!
😉
😉
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Thank you astyages,
Your words are so true – we really do not know what we have until it is gone. What a journey it must have been for you. Would love to hear your story one day… 🙂
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The story of the accident might be a bit interesting, Reuben, but I really think the story of my recovery would be far too tedious either to tell, or to listen to… though if you follow ‘Hell Hospital’ and are good at reading between the lines, perhaps you may glean sufficient information on that subject…
🙂
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