The essence of my yesterdays
Simmers over a low flame
Waiting for the first bubble to rise to the surface
A pinch sprinkled from above, floats
A tumble in slow motion in mid-air
A choreographed fall
Upon contact, melts
Dissolving into my tomorrows
Fusing the two as one
Interconnected, one bending the other
An unfinished work of abstract art
Never truly finished
.
.
Originally posted June 28, 2019
Simmering pork broth over a low flame
Patiently waiting for the right time to emerge
An old man behind a counter fans the flames
Rekindled coals sizzle as skewered juices drop and kiss the glow
Glasses clink, followed closely by the sound of a smooth pour
Filling the room with a hungering anticipation of what is next to come
Laughter, conversation and chatter dance in unison
Ingredients meant to intermingle, an umami of a different sort
The first sip, the first bite, the first taste
The eyes and mind already feasting, the palate waiting patiently for its turn
Friends and family gathering together
Savor and gratitude just moments away
The shape of a circle
Best describes you and me
A connection without an end
Our followed paths
Always reconnecting, eventually
Our separate ways, we go
Time lapses, without concern
Pathways converge in time
So parting ways
Is never a sad goodbye
Farewells always accompanied with a smile
Intuitively we both understand
Circles, our friendship
Until then
Ja mata
It’s not what is said
Nor what is unsaid, either
My gaze offers a glimmer beneath the surface, but it’s not a tell
My walk, long strides that have traveled long roads
Strength from uphill climbs, sometimes without end
Sturdied downhill descents tested unmeasured muscles
Yet I still find one continues in front of the other, I go
A spotlight shines on the realization that I am ok
The warmth of the sun’s rays hugs my shoulders and draws me in, closer
Without words, tells me I will be fine
And I let out a sigh of relief
Daijobu
Crowded city streets
Long for a chance encounter
A split second glance of a familiar face catches my eye and turns my head
A sea of people swimming upstream obstructs my view
A hopeful glimpse leaves me empty handed
But the feeling of what once was floods over me
Still, a reunion takes place
The warm feeling of the past surrounds me
Hisashiburi, an embrace
toshtamurapoetry.wordpress.com 