Beyond the Sunset

Another one, for my grandpa George Kelsey. Hank Williams this time.


Should you go first and I remain to walk the road alone
I’ll live in memory’s garden dear with happy days we’ve known
In spring I’ll wait for roses red, when fades the lilac’s blue
And in early fall when brown leaves fall, I’ll catch a glimpse of you

Should you go first and I remain, for battles to be fought
Each thing you’ve touched along the way, will be a hallowed spot
I’ll hear your voice I’ll see your smile though blindly I may grope
The memory of your helping hand will buoy me on with hope

Beyond the sunset, oh blissful morning
When with our savior, heaven is begun
Earth’s toiling ended, oh glory dawning
Beyond the sunset when day is done

Should you go first and I remain, to finish with the scroll
No lessening shadows shall ever creep in to make this life seem droll
We’ve known so much of happiness, we’ve had our cup of joy
And memory is one gift of God that death cannot destroy

I want to know each step you take that I may walk the same
For someday down that lonely road, you’ll hear me call your name
Should you go first and I remain, one thing I’ll have you do
Walk slowly down that long long path, for soon I’ll follow you

In that fair homeland, we’ll know no parting
Beyond the sunset


Stop All The Clocks

From 1938, by poet W.H. Auden. The first stanza of his “Funeral Blues.”

For my beloved grandfather George Leroy Kelsey, who left us today after 90 years.


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Chocolate Cake

Red motor scooter

Pretty girl riding

Handsome guy driving

Double hair free-flying in the wind

The girl cradles chocolate cake

In her arms, against his back

Green streetlight turns to red

I steal a glance

Rainbow sprinkles on white frosting

Something delicious.

Oh, where are you going,

Young couple on the motorbike,

And can I have a piece?

Wisdom From My Buddy Leo

Reposted from:



“What day is it?”

“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite day,” said Pooh.

By Leo Babauta

Last weekend I spent nearly four days leading a retreat, at Tassajara Zen Mountain Center. To get to this Zen center, you make a journey through a twisting bumpy rising falling mountain road, and then you’ve arrived.

And what a place to arrive at! It’s a place of peace, with a silently gushing river, people meditating all the time, everyone walking slowly, no distractions, constant gratitude and mindfulness. A beautiful place of peace.

As I contemplated the peace of leaving it all behind, I wondered why we need a place in the mountains for this kind of peace.

And so I’ve been practicing (imperfectly, of course) leaving it all behind, no matter what I’m doing.

What is this like?

Imagine you’re going to meet with someone, but you’re still thinking about the project you’ve been working on. You’ve brought the project with you. It distracts you so that you don’t fully hear the person you’re with, and they can sense your lack of attention, your lack of presence. This hurts the relationship. It stresses you out, because you’re working on the project and talking with someone at the same time. You are less competent with one task because you’re still thinking about another.

Stress, less competency, and hurt relationships. This is what we have when we bring everything with us to every activity.

But if you can leave the project behind, the talk will be much better. You’ll be fully present, fully engaged. Less stressed.

A place of peace.

How to Leave It All Behind

So how do we leave everything behind, so that we can find peace?

It’s not easy. It’s practice, then more practice. But it’s worthwhile practice.

Here’s what I’ve been doing:

When I arrive in a new place, or talk to someone, or start something new … I pause.

Then I take a brief moment to journey through the mountain road, leaving behind the rest of my life. I let go, by loosening my grip, by relaxing instead of grasping. I see it fall behind.

I then arrive in the new place. I look around, smile, enjoy. I inhabit the new place. I give thanks for being here.

Then I put my attention on this new place. This new person. This new activity.

When I notice my attention wander, I return.

I let go of the need to check, to constantly be busy with something else, to know what’s going on or to do everything.

I am just here.

And here is great.

POSTED: 09.13.2013

Midday Nap

Scruffy guy

Furrowed brow

Shaggy hair.

Lounging in a cushy chair,

Near a plush bay window seat.

Verdant courtyard is the view

Beyond three panes of glass.

In all, a lovely spot for a nap.

Heavy, hard-covered textbook on lap,

Head tilted back,

Eyes closed,

In gestures of sleepy supplication.

Has this stranger,

To me, at least,

Learned the secret to catching some winks,

And not the librarian’s watchful eye?