Author Archives: janishaag

You are a guest. Leave this earth a little more beautiful,a little more human, a little more lovable, a little more fragrant,for those unknown guests who will be following you. —Osho ••• Strip the bed before you leave.Sweep. Turn out … Continue reading →

As I pause to make the turnon the labyrinth, I look upat the grand oak that watchesover this space with its brethren, spellbound, as I often am,by the graceful curves of its limbs,by its rooted dancer’s body. I want to … Continue reading →

Or maybe more of a why not?Not allowing excuses, worries,baseless what ifs? to leap liketiny toads into the mind, instead admiring the weeamphibians and their webbedfeet, seeing their slick-spotted,leafy green selves as delights,kind-spirited visitors, not asintruders to be shooed away. … Continue reading →

(for Mom, Dorothy/Darlene Haag, on her 93rd birthday) No matter how tired I find myself on a Momday,I follow her into Curves, take up a positionon an apparatus designed to exercise a specific body part. She’s already ahead of me,settling … Continue reading →

(for the artist known as Ememem of Lyon, France) He heals asphalt fractures—potholes, cracks in sidewalkand asphalt— the anonymous Frenchstreet artist who calls himselfthe pavement surgeon, using all manner of tile tomosaic everything from delicatefissures to deep crevices, stealthily ornamentingcrater-sized … Continue reading →

A lousy thing to have everyfourth of July, this silly sensitivityto loud, unexpected noise, especially fireworks/crackers/ridiculously booming boom-boomsor the simple sound of a popping balloon, and yes, earplugs canhelp a bit, but they don’t stopthe heartleap and the startled jump. … Continue reading →

Now it’s truly summer,12 days after the solsticeas the dome descends like a cone of silencequieting the neighborhood,driving most everyone indoors but the cats,more lizard than felinethis time of year— especially my big dumbboy cat who prefersoutside despite the scary … Continue reading →

(for the mothers) ••• On the dusty back windowof a car looking as if it hasundertaken a long journey,someone has fingered the wordsWander Woman. Following it down the roadto my mother’s house,I creep closer, realizing thatit says Wonder Woman—perhaps a … Continue reading →

Sure, it’s just a quick ridethrough a car wash, but dang, if the process isn’ta metaphor for every passage through the dark, your visionobscured by soapsuds, black strips flaying yourexterior as you are somehow pulley’d through a wet tunnel.You admire … Continue reading →

Two minutes, lying down,index fingers pressing the cornersof each eye after you maneuvera single drop in. You add the lying down partto the prescription, along withthe timer on the iPad and itsserene bell, the same one thatonce reverberated around yourlate … Continue reading →