Saturday, February 25, 2017


I wish for the joy of nine five year-olds,
Half the wisdom of someone ninety.
The energy of being twice 22
And then one.

I am grateful for the numbers.
The quiet morning.
A return to yoga.
Earl Grey tea
And a french pastry from VIllage Bakery.

I appreciate my muscles: 45 years of moving me
Through this amazing life.
Bones and armature.
Balance. Feet that carried me.
To today. Downward Dog. Still got it.

The love of friends
Saying hello across the globe.
Even Bogata.
The happiness of a network
That holds me together and moves me
To be

The wisdom to be quiet.
To breathe three times deeply.
To know where Center is
And to know when I am not there.
The grace and permission to return.

To so many things I still don’t know.
Like how my nervous system really works.
And the mystery
Of a heart
That has real electricity inside.

The love of parents
And a brother, a sister, my first birthday
With Olivia: her first birthday with me.
Almost one year with Olivia.
Gift: Aunt.
A farm to return to today.
My first home. In February of 1972.
They put me on a blanket in the sun.
And watched me grow.

A family. Cards and laughter.
Willful suspense
And proud surprises.
I am forty-five.
They can’t even begin to know

How beautiful it is.
I am this many, but also zero.
Just beginning to see
What a magical place this is
When you stop
And take a look
At the time.

1 comment:

  1. Lucky me. I've had a front row seat for the past 14 years.