Posts Tagged ‘contentment’


What were you doing when you last felt content?
            —Ada Limón

And there, beneath the white tent,
beneath the blue sky, beneath the stars
I could not see, while spinning somewhere
inside a spiral galaxy, I closed my eyes
and let the sound of flute and piano find me,
an Irish song meant to be played with a wee lilt,
though the tune itself knew something of loss,
and I felt my lungs swell and my heart expand
felt my spine straighten and my soles ground,
and I floated inside the music, stunned and surprised
by the vibrant inheritance of being alive. I hummed
with full cellular resonance and then, I was crying—
a warm spilling of tears—for what?
for beauty? for loss? for living with both in one breath?
What was it the tears meant? Oh friends,
as I felt it all with no attempt to push it away,
I was wildly, alively content.

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that after years of driving past a place

on your way to somewhere else, this time


you stop. You find yourself sitting

beneath a scrappy tree as the shadows


make their daily rounds. The breeze stirs,

then forgets itself. The clouds balloon,


then disappear. The cars on the highway

continue their journey toward somewhere.


And you sit. What a relief to go nowhere.

What a gift to have nothing to say.


The winds of your thoughts bluster

and go away. An ant makes its way


to the top of a grass blade then makes

its way back down. The snow


that arrived on the peaks yesterday

melts by noon into the ground.


Where do you think you need to go?

You say, “There,” and the world says, “Here.”


There is cricket song all around you.

Gold tang of rabbit brush rouses the air.


Sometimes it happens this way: you stop.

And the world arrives at your chair.

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I deserve better
said the lock to the oar.
You never thank me
for holding you close.

I deserve more
said the oar to the boat.
You never praise
how I move you along.

I deserve warmth
said the boat to the river
you are always so cold,
so cold.

And the river said nothing,
nothing at all
and it kissed the earth
as it flowed.

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I guess I’d make
a crummy bird … here I am
singing in the darkness.

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