55 YPH

Wakening in mid-journey
as time speeds up
to 55 years per hour
a life now glimpsed
through rear view mirrors
with less apprehension
my powerlessness
as crisp and cool to the eye
& touch
as september’s shades
of bright azure
and indigo skies
the surest harbingers of fall
content to embrace
its unmistakable clarity
cherishing moments
of time past
making friends
with untold numbers of
joyous disappointment
and glorious error
like a super-charged molecule
engulfed within its cocoon-like
magnetic field
stirred to action
by electrical impulse
coursing through veins unknown
I long
to explore with wonder
and to accept
with grace
what is yet
to come

Acceptance

Whenever I accept
my own humanity
with its countless limitations
& imperfections

I regale myself
with the strength
& kindness
of love’s compassion

This is the love of self
that fuels our capacity
to return to the world
brimming with loving-kindness

Never

Uttering: never
seems a naive way
to self-soothe
from the anxieties of
life’s complex possibilities,
an arrogant posture
attempting control
of the uncontrollable

The only time
it may ever make sense
to consider verbal investiture
in the absoluteness
of this simple
retrospective stance
is upon realizing
that
never,
bears fruit
not ever

Daily Chores

I prepare
for the day’s infinite possibilities
while a subtle
sense of dread
throbs throughout my body

By setting down
the familiar
true encumbrances:
fear-based misgivings
buzzing like wasps’ wings
building a nest in my mind

With each and every out-breath
I unload
my neck & shoulders
pierced with the pinching pain
of my saddle bag’s
sharp leather strap
weighted
with rarely-used
just-in-case
sundry items
purporting to ease
my existential angst

I am released to the day
new
with hopeful innocence:
placing them down
is daily a challenge
but a chore
to which to tend
with delight