Thirty One Years Old
"Just stop for a minute and you'll realize you're happy just being. I think it's the pursuit that screws up happiness.
If we drop the pursuit, it's right here."
gift from a friend
planted in the church garden today
After a fine Metric Poetry event
time spent with wonderful poet,
wickedly funny friend,
John Marcus Powell
amongst old trees at Tompkins Square,
where we spotted the hawk!
(that dark spot at center)
Like many others, I'm the only mother I have now.
Through the love others have given me and I have given them, through love of all the creatures, and gardens that fell to my care,
I've seen the light of true love:
love as a verb, a vibration,
a way of being.
A twilight wind swept through giving voice to the leaves.
It was a lovely, lovely Mothers day.