On earth, you live like rushing water,
but there is something to be said
for slowing the pace, suspending
the clamouring mind, and simply
sitting in a chair in the sun.
The world passes by, in cars, or
at the end of leashes, smiling dogs
and their people walking up the hill.
Sometimes, they wave.
I wave back.
They look at me, sitting outside
the seniors' home, and mistakenly think
my life must be dull. Oh, how wrong
they are! My mind might be
walking a mountain trail in Tibet,
in search of the snow leopard.
It might be swooping and darting
with the hummingbirds, checking out
the state of the almost-ready-to-bloom
cherry blossoms. It might be mining
the richest source of all,
travelling all the way back in time,
when the world and I were young,
when all the love songs that ever were
were still ahead, all waiting to be sung.
What wisdom could come from sleeping in the sun?
In my blue chair, thoughts still, contented,
breathing in one more gloriously unfolding spring,
I feel the wisdom, learned rather late,
of simply Being, enjoying the Now,
(while there still is a Now),
all striving over and accomplished,
more than happy with What Is, especially
the sweet rooms behind me,
me basking out front like
an old dog on her back, paws up,
warmed by the golden balm of this
early springtime sun.
Italicized lines from "Promotion Review in the Afterlife" by Brynn Gribben