Looking

 

In the tide pool, small creatures lurk: sea urchins,
anemone, starfish: green, purple, orange.
They are squishy, clinging to the rocks

tenaciously; they will never let go.

Mussels click with their thousand voices:

so much life existing everywhere, unaware
of the climate crisis,

going about the daily business of living

as we once did, as if it will continue
forever.

Off the dock, just under the surface, jellyfish

slowly oscillate, looking like small parachutes,
or soft, undulating moons.

I gaze and gaze.

I will never be done with looking,
heart open, grateful.

The wonders are as many

and as varied as the mind can hold:

the way the clouds dance along the mountains,

fog lifting as you paddle through the early morning,

islands emerging from the mist, the eagle's call,

a heron picky-toeing along the mudflats.

The world is my temple, beauty
from beginning to end,
and full of wonder.

I stand beside the sea,
arms out, hands cupped,
offering gratitude and praise,

as if receiving blessings

in return, or, perhaps, waiting

for a small, sweet bird to land.

Inspired by "Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does it End" by Mary Oliver.