Art Rosch's Page

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I felt clouded with doubts when we first drove down the long entranceway to the campground where we intended to live. Can I adjust to living like this, surrounded by RVs, tents and trailers? Won’t it feel like being on display, every time we want to go outside and sit in o… Continue

My hands are learning you.
All my life they have been open
like questions, asking,
“Who will fit here, will she be this way,
or this way?”
They extend and caress an invisible presence.
Then you slid between them;
at first they were surprised.
“This is not what we expected”, they said,
“we held ourselves here, where there was nothing,
and we learned to stroke the silky smoothness of nothing,
and became stubborn waiting for nothing.”
But you pulled my hands into yourself,
and the questions were… Continue

Look around you:
look at the people, so driven, driven
by a force
relentless as gravity
inescapable as day and night, life and death.
The power that winds us and grinds us,
makes us crazy is the hunger for love,
the search for love, the absence of love,
the loss of love.
Its effects are everywhere,
visible and invisible,
pervasive;
in this landscape of loss
and loneliness
the search grips everyone
obsessive as a drug hunger
so intrusive and demanding
that we are not even aware
as it seeps int… Continue

Listen carefully.
If you have held a child in your lap,
tenderly, warmly, feeling yourself flow
into your child, feeling yourself melt
into your child,
that is how you, too, are being held, always.
Your child also holds another child,
a future child who is eternally present,
in his or her lap.
And that child holds a being,
living, evolving, eternally present,
in his or her lap.
And what holds you in its lap
is being held by something greater,
warmly, tenderly, and that too
is being held by so… Continue

Fox and I met in 1999 by a flukish accident. At the time I was
single, and not liking it. I had taken up the habit of visiting
online singles websites. We all know that the internet dating world is a mad farcical gallery, a circus sideshow of fantasy and bad judgment. We do it anyway; it’s like eating fudge. After the first piece it’s disgusting but there’s no
way to stop until it’s either gone or you begin to go into diabetic coma.
I was addicted to reading ads, scanning descriptions, viewing
p… Continue