Begging Bowl

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I take my begging bowl

out into the morning,

and it is heaped,

without my asking,

with delights:

sky of summer-blue,

perfect puffy clouds,

eagle wind-surfing the sky,

Lunabella's smile,

old black and golden dogs
with warm, brown, loving eyes,

old horse nibbling fresh green grass.

With humility and gratitude,

I accept what I am given,

these  riches beyond price.

We are heaped with blessings,

not one repeated twice.

I found this in my drafts folder this morning. It must be from a few years back, when old dogs and old horse were still alive. Sigh.