Ponderings: the ponds

every year

the lilies

are so perfect

i can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding

the black,

mid-summer ponds.

nobody could count all of them-

the muskrats swimming

among the pads and the grasses

can reach out

their muscular arms and touch

only so many, they are that

rife and wild.

but what in this world

is perfect?

i bend closer and see

how this one is clearly lopsided-

and that one wears an orange blight-

and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away-

and that one is a lumped purse

full of its own

unstoppable decay.

still, what i want in my life

is to be willing to be dazzled-

to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even

to float a little above this difficult world.

i want to believe i am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.

i want to believe that the imperfections are nothing-

that the light is everything- that it is more than the sun

of each flawed blossom rising and fading. and i do.

mary oliver

.........................

this morning i need some words like these. maybe i needed a little more time to work out the difficult dreams that have been crowding my sleep. maybe my body was too sore for nia this morning. maybe it's the thought of returning to work after almost a week gone.

but my dreams are teaching me, if i let them. and nia is bringing me into my body- pumping it with blood and love and spirit. and my work, well, my work is...is. is my excuse for the feelings i don't want to feel. not that it doesn't stretch those and sometimes make them more painful than they were, but when i am being truthful with myself, i recognize that they are coming from me. me.