Gratitude

I am aware of my great fortune.

I do not contrast my life with others to be filled with gratitude. What I have fills me with wonder.

I look up, sometimes I see a roof, with which I am satisfied. Sometimes I see the sky, which also makes me content.

I wash my hands and that feels so much better than dirty hands. I cup them for a drink, fearless, my water is clean.

I have clothes, mostly I find them aesthetically pleasing, but always I find them useful in protecting my body and my modesty.

Beach/meditation

Somehow the most stimulating things simulate a deprivation of stimulation in their ability to draw out of them an awareness of self, a quietude. That is the draw of the beach for me.

In the surf
So much stimulation it’s a meditation.
My ears are filled
waves, rushing, splashing, so it is all I hear.
My body is filled
flood and drain against me
sand sinking & slipping
My eyes are filled
unfathomable depth & breadth of water
My nose is filled
green smells, viscous life
My mouth is filled
salt and thick vapors
I am filled
me
In the surf on a planet
Rushing, draining, slipping
Deep, living and filled
A solitude
Shared
With everyone
Standing in the surf
Observing self
Feeling ohm
Feeling home

Astronauts on a Pillow:

From A Blog to Regret

Astronauts on a Pillow.

Poetry

Every poem is a plea
To save humanity
Save me from the darkness

A prayer
for tranquility
Let me rest in this small space

Shedding light
On a moment passing
This green shoot is a revelation

An end and a beginning
Soothing babes in cradles
Or igniting revolution

Nostalgia

writing love letters
to childhood friends
swimming in my memories
sirens to my ocean mind
singing of a pond in time,
“the sky is blue” they sing
and yearning roils, koi at feeding
time it clouds the me that was
before these many dawns and dusks