Tears of Joy
by Lorenzo Lago

My computer is the only instrument of technology that I brought from the States. Writing with pen and paper is soulful, and good for middle-of-the-night ideas, but my laptop is exceptionally proficient in maintaining the extended comprehension of my final goal. So I haven’t gone totally pure. This may defeat some of the reason for escaping to this lost peninsula, but who cares! I have no misconception that I am a 21st century man making believe he is part of a Swiss Family Robinson fantasy. Adventure is the key for inspiration, and I also love my comfort zone.

When I feel I need to check my emails I take a small hike. The closest Internet Café (not really an Internet Café, more of a lunch counter with two ancient Macs in a back room) is about two miles away from my cottage. I can plug my laptop in here, and the connection with the rest of the world is fairly fast.

Today I received an email from the wife of an old friend. She wrote that her husband had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and after a short battle with the disease, he quickly passed away. He apparently did not feel ill, so he didn’t receive a diagnosis until it was too late. The cancer was deep inside his body and no treatment could have helped this stage of the illness. He didn’t have a chance. His wife was quietly letting friends know of his passing, and she was sorry to burden everyone with the family’s heartache. He died in his wife’s arms with his children by his side.

It is so hard to read this type of email. It is like passing an automobile accident and seeing the desperation and despair of all who are involved. Your heart just bleeds for everyone. And you thank the universe that it is not your children, your wife, or yourself in that car crash, or in that hospital bed dying of cancer. Sometimes life isn’t fair. I wish I might have been able to say “hello,” and “goodbye” to my friend. I understand fate is why I am here and not there, but it would have been good to talk with him about some old times we shared. This is what I write back to his wife, and I send my deepest sympathy.

I step out of the café, into the sunlight. I slowly walk back toward my cottage absorbing all that life is offering me at this moment. I notice that I am surrounded by lush growth and vivid colors. I am overwhelmed by how exquisite each visual of the day has become. Each leaf, tree and cloud is mesmerizing. I am flush with wonderment. I realize that even the dirt I am walking on is utterly beautiful. I haven’t thought of this road in this way before today, but the rich dirt I am walking on is beautiful! I am so glad to share this space with the world. I am happy to be healthy, to be hungry, to write poems, to desire a woman and to ache for her love. I am happy to surf, to walk the beaches, to share my thoughts and words with others, to be alive, to laugh, and to cry.

And I am crying! I realize huge tears are racing down my cheeks. I stop walking and look around, and then towards the sky. I don’t think anyone near me recognizes what is going on with me, but I don’t care anyway. Oh, I am sobbing from somewhere deep in my heart! Geez, I haven’t sobbed with such intensity in years. I can’t control the tears!

After a few moments I stop, compose myself, and then I just cry out again. I can’t remember crying so hard. What a release! I feel so bad that this feels good! I am crying for my friend, and I am crying for all my friends and family, those who mean so much to me. The tears are flowing to calm my ache for all that I deeply love in my life. Wow, time to let my emotions go! I am letting the tears flow so my insides can call out to the heavens. Scream out to the heavens! I must have been holding a lot of ache inside myself for an awfully long time. I must be flushing out all the emotions that I have kept in check for too long! I am crying just because it feels so damn good to cry!

It has taken me all afternoon to get back to the cottage. It is good to be here. I have become familiar with this space and it feels comfortable to be home. The tears were the best experience I had undergone in quite a while. After such a day of emotion, I feel at peace. I do not feel like I am missing something by being here at my cottage by myself. I do not feel alone or lonely. I think I did feel alone, I know I did, earlier out on the road, but I am fine now. In fact, I feel new, amazing, and full of energy! My friend’s death has been a rebirth for me. I am so thankful for all that I have, and all that the world presents to me! I am enormously grateful to be alive.

I eat dinner like I haven’t eaten for days. All sorts of inspirational ideas and aspirations are in my grasp. I sit down at the computer and start writing.

Grass seeds
by Steve Quirt


Hay blows off the bed of the ranchers flatbed feed rig
Sings to the country road another country song
"Maybe it's about waiting oh so long?"

                He has fields up in Oregon that he can cut twice, or maybe three times
If he's lucky.

             He hauls it back home for his cows.

By five o'clock he's done feeding heading home over the day
Truck out on the road through ten thousand acres of dry pasture
Broken bale and spilt hay fly off the bed
Stock dog dancing back and forth in a tornado of swirled hay
Barking at the wind.

The tavern is down the road a bit, stacked with story and glory.
"They'll be lined and drinking like thirsty calves"
Better stop in and see if anybody needs some help.

The cows got fed.

Seeds of Oregon grass blow off the flatbed
Settling in a new land.
Offerings to the pasture
Seeds so ready to sprout that
the earth trembles a little.

By the time he reaches the Tavern, the seeds are settled in for eternity.

Little bundles of lifespan potential starseed possibilities blown from the wind again.

And are ready for the spring rain
   dry earth
   dry grass
   dying embers
   denying death.

At night, the seeds turn into stars
in the big galaxy above the rancher.
Spreading out over millennia salted and strewn across eternity
Blowing freely off the back of God's pick-up truck
To fertile fields of cosmic pasture planting His Grand Plan.

In the morning the Rancher woke early to check his cows.
Calving season was on him and he was a good tender of cattle
He was wondering if the cows liked the fresh
Batch of hay he brought in from Oregon.

           He got in his truck and the stock dog jumped up on the flat bed.
            He was covered with starseeds.
    "At least it's not damn ticks", the rancher muttered.
The dog was shedding star seeds.
They had a pure silver light about them, and   
        wherever they landed, they turned into bright stars.
               The rancher said something to himself then drove off shedding
bits of starseed off the truck bed
        while the dog ran back and forth back and forth
                                                                barking at eternity.