Light and Dark — Then and Now

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ad shone through the window slats, and I woke to birds cawing and people cutting their lawns.</p><p id="a162">It was nice to be young when all I had was time, to catch Saturday matinees, explore an imperfect city, and hear the sounds of the world.</p><p id="88ce">As a child, I never thought about myself— I just lived without a purpose and followed the joys of catastrophe, the whims and wishes of family and friends.</p><p id="8c49">Now I lead a quieter journey and heed the wisdom of the crows, flying with certainty, careful of my next step.</p><p id="2b16">I’m friendly, but I don’t follow others or go down the wrong path. I love the ocean, taking pictures of sunrises, and saying hello to people walking their dogs. My wife say

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s I wake up too early, but I like it that way.</p><p id="247b">© 2023 <a href="undefined">Mark Tulin</a></p><p id="7cca">Here’s another poem by Mark Tulin:</p><div id="2d7d" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/an-editors-rejection-letter-95f986e2f7e7"> <div> <div> <h2>An Editor’s Rejection Letter</h2> <div><h3>Need not lessen the pain</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*3mfEFkYSNkyF0xlZzL3_1w.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

And the wisdom of the crow

Crow on a branch in black and white. Photo by Mark Tulin

I wake up now in the dark. I’m used to it — the silence, the clarity. I can hear the wind whistling, the raindrops falling, and the tugboat blowing its horn in the oceanic distance.

I’m into my thoughts. They’ve become my comrades, giving me unwavering support.

I used to ignore my intuition, sleep late, and wake up with morning perspiration. The sun had shone through the window slats, and I woke to birds cawing and people cutting their lawns.

It was nice to be young when all I had was time, to catch Saturday matinees, explore an imperfect city, and hear the sounds of the world.

As a child, I never thought about myself— I just lived without a purpose and followed the joys of catastrophe, the whims and wishes of family and friends.

Now I lead a quieter journey and heed the wisdom of the crows, flying with certainty, careful of my next step.

I’m friendly, but I don’t follow others or go down the wrong path. I love the ocean, taking pictures of sunrises, and saying hello to people walking their dogs. My wife says I wake up too early, but I like it that way.

Here’s another poem by Mark Tulin: