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B. Steiner
my life your death
the narrow stream between us
flows away
I was walking up a side canyon in the Grand Canyon, where a narrow stream only 6 inches wide ran through the endless desert of hot dry stone. I was hit suddenly by the smell of death and looked to the side to see the rotting corpse of a bighorn sheep. I looked at it for a while as I stood on one side of the stream and the bones and hide succumbing to gravity lay on the other side only a few feet away...
Life Story:
Everyone on Facebook has a timeline, progressing from birth and hometown through a conglomeration of friends and associations. I have a tapestry. Threads of professions, people, and places weave in and out of different times of my life. Patterns flow and dissipate, emerge again later in a new chapter. The beginning mind of Zen is acquired, when I find myself entering a new profession every three years and starting from scratch. It has been said that people become writers because they have failed at everything else. There have been failures and successes as a river guide, a charter school principal, a waitress and an art model, to name a few, but the broad range of experiences may just be the fuel that life offers me for writing.
I do not write about writing. Ugh! Nor do I live to write or collect experiences to write about. More than anything the writings are bread crumbs fallen on the page that some one else may see where I have been or perhaps, someday, will lead the way home.
Books
A Literary Curiosity: Pyramid Renga "Open,” with Jane Reichhold, AHA Books: 1989.
Narrow Road to Renga, One of the Pilgrims, AHA Books: 1989.
Immersion: A Haiku Journey Through the Grand Canyon by Bambi Steiner, AHA Books 2010.
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