time sweeps history

Once upon a time and such a wonderful time it was I wore a BIG watch.

Living in the past is time consuming.

Small wrist. Bone, skin, vein.

All the weight. Shake time. Wake up!

This BIG watch was not huge never ending gigantic e normal mouse time. Rather small time. I thought time was big. Life is big. Time is short and small. Time is a mass of white seagulls pirouetting in a pitch black sky. White light fragments flutter by and by.

A woman's long face studies sorrow at her feet. 

Another read Turkish coffee grounds. You will experience a personal earthquake. I see a child. You travel many roads. A bird has a good message. 

I see a spirit place in the mountains, said another reader. Many people are praying. There is a holy man. It is a Buddhist place. There are many rivers and mountains. I see a man and woman. You will meet a cat. It is a woman. She is a potential enemy. Be careful.

Miracles Revealed! Faith, hope and alienation.

A Trabzon bus lot director in shiny black shoes, orange tie, and white hair with hands behind his back sings Italian opera. His voice is a long distance trans carrier between Georgia and Greece. 

Here we go, I stutter.

Language of what I don't know is big. Bigger than time. Longer than tomorrow, a faceless facet of time's ticking, sweeping a hand around a dial. Knowing and understanding tried to communicate without speaking. Zap. Down, done, did, do the do.

I know but cannot say. Others say but do not know. Babbling tongues.

After escaping Persians, 10,000 Greek warriors ran down mountains layered with leaves yelling, THE SEA! THE SEA!

The warrior wears a medal from Korean service. Once upon a time.

one morning

small short history

heard a crow in a green autumn forest

document orange black sea light

among singing strangers

offering lemons, fresh bread, tea, 

as red roses converse with thorns

a 4,000 year old story

After three years exploring Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia, Orphan and Elf looked at a world map.

Our creative and healing work here is complete for now, said Elf.

I agree, said Orphan. I feel restless and need renewal. Where shall we go?

Make it new day by day. Make it new. Let's see, said Elf, tracing the map. Did you enjoy Turkey four years ago?

Yes, their hospitality is kind.

Ok, how about an ancient eastern town near the Black Sea with mountains? Pine, maple and evergreen forests? Fresh air, olives, tomatoes, cheese, hot bread and pastries? The Greeks and Romans lived there.

Sounds perfect for our never ending adventure. It's on the Silk Road. Did Marco Polo visit there?

Yes. He passed through. Like us. Maybe we will meet him or a wandering relative. We will share tea dancing silver spoons with new friends.

To travel is better than to arrive.

Ok. Let's go to Trabzon.

memory 5, 2

this is memory 5. let's see what we don't know through a turkish lens. light and angle. a woman waiting at sophia for someone she's dreamed of in a future arranged marriage, a boy at a sewing machine, an old man walking, a shaft of light on a carpet, yellow pipes and a white cloud at a metro stop, a door surrounded by stone, arches, a halloween ghost. 

this is memory 2. a mudanya baker with his art, a fisherman repairing a net, empty oilve cans, shoes and yellow wall, pans waiting for burnishing, farm tools. life is simple in turkey. 

Marco's Future

Early one morning Orphan and Elf jumped on the local Vomit Comet bus from a rural village to Quanzhou.

They rolled through green Fujian foothills and lush farmland. Men worked oxen in rice paddies. Woman lugged baskets of greens and califlower to market. Children burned plastic trash along the road. Half-finished new rising middle class brick construction projects littered the landscape. The bus stopped. People crowded on. 

45 minutes later they reached the town. Maybe it was a city or a large village. The bus station was packed with peasants, sellers, noodle slurpers, and hustlers among grateful masses. 

They walked through a maze of alleys into the old heart. The heart is a lonely hunter. 

On a sidewalk a man hacked at a fawn selling fresh cuts. People scrambled to buy fresh meat. A woman pedaled past selling yellow carnations. A boy ran pulling a kite. A girl fed her sister. Women scrubbed clothes. An old man smoked in shadows.

At a venerable tea house made of bamboo in a shaded garden surrounded by jasmine they met Marco Polo.

I am on my way West along the Silk Road, he said. I don't know it yet but I will meet Kubliai Khan and stay with him for 3 incredible years. Maybe around 1271. We will play chess together. He will show me his plans to conquer the known world.

Orphan said, Such a grand adventure. We come here every weekend to explore and meet fascinating people and world travelers like you.

Elf said, Yes, and we know a Chinese fortune teller at a pagoda. He's excellent.

May I meet him, asked Marco. Sure, said Elf, Let's go.

They traveled through twisted, convoluted mazes and discovered an enormous pagoda. Red, yellow, golden roofs curved into blue sky. Five-clawed yellow dragons holding white pearls curled corners. Men, woman and children burned incense, mumbling prayers. Red cloth covered Buddha statue faces. Not ready to see. 

There he is, Orphan said, pointing at Confucius behind a table.

Marco introduced himself, What is my future.

Confucius asked Marco questions about his birth date, place, and family lineage. He opened a big brown book with faded yellow pages. He ran a bony finger down lines. He spoke in tongues, Among other adventures you will be imprisoned in Italy. You will tell your stories to another prisoner. You will be famous.

I only told half of what I saw, said Marco, smiling, scrawling notes. Elf made an image for historians.