[They] “will continue to press every button we have…they will point us to our freedom every time.”~Byron Katie
Go right to the source and ask the horse. Talk to Mr. Ed.~Jay Livingston
Why do robins usher in the dawn with songs
of cheer I hear even behind these sturdy walls?
Why do I call one body all my cells
who collaborate in this symphony?
Can I hear my own harmony?
How can I move into the macroscopic
view, reality askew? In the course
I offer to the world, we rhyme
outside of time. Today’s lesson taught
by blue sky fraught with stratocumulus
beings chasing across a horizon
busily steaming more and more.
What industrious chef bubbles these pots?
What is cooking? How does it feed me
now to ask? I could take our leaders
to task, blame their remote egregrious
greed. The sky reminds me to stay
open, salute the digression,
move back into question. Diving ducks
black and white have claimed the lake.
My mother says, for heaven’s sake.
Where is my power? Which place of wonder
allows me to flower? This spring
morning I inquire, step out of knowing
into this glorious change. Cirrus
wisps take the podium, custodians
whisking the stage. I stay
engaged and moving
into why, my heart at ease
powerless rage released.
There’s joy behind the fear,
relief. I wonder how
a sparrow hawk swoops past,
low and fast opens my now.