THE BODHISATTVA OF THE MORNING

So tranquil, the slopes of Wah'nah'juss,
bodhisattva of my morning,
reigning peacefully over the harbour,
mist draped cozily along her shoulders.
Small boats chug back and forth
across the water.
All is peacefulness.
Villagers walk with purpose, distancing,
warily eyeing surfaces
where the virus might be lurking,
ready to fasten mortal coils
onto its next unwilling host.

There is peril. Mortality has come into focus.
At the same time, Mother Earth goes about
her business of heralding spring.
Small birds sing joyously from the hedgerows,
innocent of human cares. Owning
only feathers, they are
more fortunate, and happier,
than we.

The beach rolls its eternal waves
in to shore, and out again,
a silvery beauty, tides following the moon,
our footsteps following the shore
in cadence with its murmuring forever song.

I stood on Chestermans yesterday,
prayers of gratitude on my lips,
a thank you for the gift of these years
of living here, a second time blessed.
I imprinted the beach on my memory
before isolating myself;
it may be a while before I stand there again.

As humans retreat indoors,
spring unfurls its wonders,
perhaps never more keenly appreciated
than now.
Skies clear, waters run clean.
We lift our heavy foot from nature's neck
and she breathes more freely.
They say wild creatures are venturing out
at night. With fewer of us to fear,
they explore the newly empty places,
footsteps tentative, eyes alert,
expanding into the freedom
of more places in which to be.

All is beauty. The things we were
distraught about last year, when we had
health and freedom of movement,
seem foolish to us now.

We didn't know how lucky we were;
how quickly all could change.
The things we took for granted:
walks, gathering together,
the normalcy of day following days
that were much the same,
- not breathing in the possibility of death
when we touch our face -
all that blessed unawareness gone, for now.
I doubt we will ever revert to it again,
now we are woke. Normal life will return
with wonder and appreciation
on the other side of this:
another gift, another teaching
from the All-That-Is.

What we have now is the gift of life itself,
and gratitude for it all: the safety
of our peaceful rooms,
the community of friends, both near and far,
the ease of breathing in and out
with healthy lungs -
perhaps never more keenly felt
than in these days when our mortality
has never felt more frail.

Gratitude
     Gratitude
          Gratitude
and wonder for it all.


for Brendan at earthweal: Silver Linings.

It is ALL silver linings now, as we count the blessings we took for granted a month ago. If we have a roof over our head and food, we are better off facing this virus than billions of people the world over. We humans learn our lessons the hard way every time.