Often in the afternoon, I turn from the Boulevard Raspail onto the Rue Emile Richard, which on each side is lined by parked cars and the stone walls of the Montparnasse cemetery. It is a straight street, and narrow, and on clear days it is bathed in the setting sun. Motor traffic runs only south, but pedestrians go both ways. All along, plane trees rise from the earth, each starting alone before joining together to hold the sky in perfect silence and dip as one with the still wind. Looking up I am stunned again by the familiar twists of strange branches. Theirs is always the bare truth.
Familiar Twists of Strange Branches
About the Author: zenscribe
Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste.
The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.
The streets are now full with childreen and playing sound. Its the same street. Its a new street.
After looking again, I am surprised to realize that there are cars parked only on one side of the Rue Emile Richard.
The street, I see, is always new.
I am tired and she is away. I feel lonely as the streets below. No one is passing. The smeel of dinner food is on the air. They have already gone. Hope they arrive okay. I wait for their sms. Dont know what to say when she calls me later. Have to go to bead early. Tomorrow have to be at the office at 10h00. I will work in the weekend. The television is on but nothing okay is being broadcated. I feeel sad. Have eaten to much food and now the belly is very full. What kind of tea should I have? Lonely night tea time. I will take care of this fax tomorrow. Dont feel the energy to do anything.