Let me be clear

Let me be clear.

When I walk across the Kaw River Bridge

and look out at the sky reflecting off the water,

that is real.

And when I write about it,

that, too, is real -

the writing at my keyboard,

I mean.

And when you read about it

that is also real,

now three steps removed

from the first real.

And perhaps you will think about what I have written

when you are walking across the Kaw River Bridge.

Again, that will be real -

your walking,

and your thinking,

and the river.

But I should be precise.

These things were real,

or will be real, perhaps.

This real moment is

passing away.

These distinctions may not matter much to you.

It is only my observation

that while there is no shortage of reality around us,

we are often distracted from noticing those parts which matter to us,

and it is my contention that what is at hand and near to the present

matters more than we realize,

and we often fail to understand and appreciate why these things

and events

and people

should matter to us.

I don’t know if this will mean anything to you,

but Leonard Cohen sang these words,

some time ago:

did you ever go clear?

Today on my walk to the river

I dropped a golden dollar into Don Quixote’s metal cup

in exchange for a lesson he taught me some time ago.

The coin clanked against the bottom and spun,

according to the laws of physics,

catching a bit of the late afternoon sunlight,

before settling.

He thanked me.

I returned his expression of gratitude,

and I walked on and stood,

waiting at the corner,

for the light to go green.

I shall not attempt to explain all that I mean here,

but if you ask me, sometime,

I will try -

face to face,

in real time,

to be clear.