Song of Wonder

Even here,

somewhere in the middle

of these dark days,

somewhere in the middle of this Crossing,

where lives upended stumble

blindly through their days,

even here, I can sing

of wonder.

I can gently glide with Great Blue Heron

who slowly, silently wings

sweeping through fog across the sea.

If he can do this, so can we.

Green boughs of pine

stand stalwart as they climb

towards the morning sky, content

with who they are and how they grow.

I can let my eyes rest on the candle flame

and her twin reflection in the window mirror

celebrating,

honoring,

blessing

life, warming the photograph of my Baba, smiling

with me, saying to me

that I am loved.

Nowhere in this great world

is wonder ever present but Here,

where, I listen

deeply,

attentively

sacredly

 
to what the world wants to say.