drmstream[writing]

a place for things that don't have a place elsewhere

Category: point of view

Let me hold your hand and plan, while we wait together

I want you to keep your dig­nity,” I say. You look at me. I see the con­fu­sion, the blank stare, the quiver of panic that lingers at the edge of your eyes and in the taut skin below your jaw. “I know,” you say. But you don’t say any­thing else. I can barely con­trol what hap­pens inside me, […]

The right words at the right time

When  I walk along the street, the imagery is vital and imme­di­ate. A strong jaw. Her lips make deep creases when they purse. He’s got his shoul­ders thrown back like he’s been con­grat­u­lated about some­thing that he didn’t do. Her fore­head is pressed for­ward as if she’s look­ing into life through a plate glass win­dow. That […]

They hugged and kissed each other for ever so long…they did not know why.”

How do you know that? Have you been there to see? And if you had been there to see, and had seen none, that would not prove that there were none … And no one has a right to say that no water babies exist till they have seen no water babies exist­ing, which is […]

Sharing what we see is meaning enough

Each place you go, don’t look for the thing that is dif­fer­ent. Look for the thing that is the same. That is your start­ing point, the anchor. I can share the expe­ri­ence. We aren’t alone. But we can’t find each other inside all the noise. We have to look out into the quiet, strip the […]

Who was that angel?

Her name was Arline. She was my father’s mother. She died in 1949 when my father was 16. We knew very lit­tle about her grow­ing up. In the early 1980’s, after my grand­fa­ther died, a let­ter arrived at the house from my father’s aunt Marie who was six years younger than her sis­ter. My par­ents were […]

A butterfly swarm

When I still believed in fairies, I walked alone up a moun­tain in the west of Ire­land, the bog slip­ping away as I pushed along a faint trail past a hid­den lake and beyond a stony ridge. I believed I was some­one who walked alone in the wild, but I wasn’t. I was in a fevered […]

The whole of nature in its beauty

A human being is part of a whole…[but] he expe­ri­ences him­self, his thoughts and feel­ings as some­thing sep­a­rate from the rest…This delu­sion is a kind of prison for us, restrict­ing us to our per­sonal desires and to affec­tion for a few per­sons near­est to us. Our task must be to free our­selves from this prison […]

The dead tree in our path

On a trail I walk there is an old tree that has given up life but stands rooted stolidly in the ground. The trunk is thick and black. The sea­sons have embalmed it. The wood is so hard that the bark won’t break off in your hands. The boys pick up stray scraps that have been […]

Setting off on a bicycle trip

These young men are wav­ing good­bye as they start the 1000 mile trek from Pitts­burg to New Orleans. They’ll skirt the Allegheny Moun­tains, pass into Ten­nessee and pick up the Jack­son Mil­i­tary Road for the final 400 mile descent to the Mis­sis­sippi Delta and the bay­ous and great swamps sur­round­ing New Orleans. They are following […]

Our stories connect us

Most men lead lives of quiet des­per­a­tion and go to the grave with the song still in them. Henry David Thoreau The enemy of our soul is the expe­ri­ence of anonymity. Thoreau was mis­guided in his instinct to sep­a­rate him­self from the peo­ple around him and to envi­sion their lives as empty and use­less. The […]