Author: Michael Stevens

The Heart of Cursive

I received two hand-written notes in the ‘snail’ mail this week. I was overwhelmed by emotion. It has been a long time since I received an analog letter. The felt hand of cursive flowing...

It’s Snow Wonder

The clear cornflower-blue sky on this crisp spring morning stands in stark contrast to last night’s blizzard. A few inches of sun-illuminated white stuff blankets the landscape. Mini-crystals reflect light like so many diamonds...

Sanitized Dharma

I read an article concerning the long term effects of the Covid pandemic on society. One side effect of social isolation seems to be a significant uptick in cases of unruly behavior on airplanes,...

Trees, Tea, and Emptiness

I am sitting at a rustic table, its surface made from rough-hewn boards with saw marks clearly visible. I have a vision of the time when the tree was felled. The sky on that...

The Flame Inside Pain

When I look into the eyes Of one who suffers One who feels lost and helpless One who simply seeks peace When I look into those eyes Beholding pain without hope And see my...

War No More

Samsara is very predictable. Through repetitive cycles of war, no wars have ever brought enduring peace. This is because the mind that thinks war is an answer to unhappiness is the source of all...

Mother and Child Reunion

But I would not give you false hope On this strange and mournful day When the mother and child reunion Is only a motion away Oh, oh, the mother and child reunion Is only...

Becoming Tasty

A human is a curious form of life. It seems like a mutated species maladapted to its environment. It uses finite resources as if they are infinite. It wages destructive wars as if to...

Eternal Sunshine of the Aging Mind

We are hiking in the Riley Ranch Preserve and meet an old acquaintance with a friend and relish the joy of reconnecting. As we catch up on things, the conversation steers toward our scars....

Hawkish

Our resident sharp-shinned hawk lands on the fence opposite our viewing window near the bird feeder. She looks at us and eyes our bird bath. The songbirds have long skedaddled. As she hops along...