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 Where Are We? 

No-one knows

Minute to minute

Everyone has to adjust

 

No more mercy

No more seasons

Nothing to count on

 

Where is the middle

Center of splendor

Safe and calm

 


Truly precious

Our smallness grows

Dusty ashes in the wind

 

Splashed with pure curiosity

We witness willows’

Salty sorrow

 

And first ginkgo petals

Sweet green

Young

 

Tango tunes leaping from

Smiling moon above

Our ears unfold

 


Everyone is blabbering on

As if it is normal to be

Disappeared alone

 

Terror and boots

On the ground

Without roots

 

Alive today

Dead tomorrow

Just one arm and leg

 

Whatever falls from heaven

Tumbles back to source

Stars sun metal rain



Bathed in stream of tears

Chiseled by wonder

We are molded

 

Nestling in fertile lush dark

We feel vulnerable

Delicate old

 

Balancing deeper within

Gratitude glows gaily

Heart beats slow

 

Through vast unknown realms

Silent stillness shimmers

No need to control

 


Newborn fresh

wrinkles

Tender

 

Here I am

There we are

And all together

 

Breathing pain dance

Loss beauty grace

Both and all

 

And all together…one

 

Karina Epperlein, Berkeley, March, 2026



Last Sunday, the amazon prime delivery driver flies out of his truck, twirls, jumps, waltzes, across the street to my neighbor’s door steps. Watering my patio pots, I stop and rush down the stairs to ask him: “What makes you exercise – or dance???” Whirling back to his vehicle, he responds, a tiny bit out of breath: “Oh, I just need to stay loose, in the flow.”  I laugh in agreement, wave. Back behind the wheel, his flushed face shows neither pleasure nor pain. He starts the car. Just work and being present in the body. Staying flexible, moving. I am impressed, he exhibited no fancy dance moves, but rather his own spontaneous expression of aliveness. That is what caught my eye. Perhaps some young drivers might have taken to showing off their dance chops. In order to brighten and lighten the grind of work, and beat the clock? I wonder. What a good solution to fight back the system of greed. This driver seems to bounce, float and glide. Playful, quietly daring. He is not down-trodden, meowing and “mouncing.” (That word does not existent in English, I borrow it from the German word maunzen which means to complain, whine. Like cats and teenagers do.) He is in the flow.



Decades ago in San Francisco, I used to watch trash collection drivers early in the morning perform their unique, stunningly choreographed dances with the cans. Now the trucks have robotic arms to do the hard physical work. Someday soon in the future, we might miss dancing with the packages and the trash bins, and we’ll have to invent new ways of moving with ease, energy and momentum when at work or play. Let’s not forget to adhere to priceless flow of life force… relating, playing, nodding, laughing, offering humble gestures, and most of all bows…



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