Sometimes

 

Sometimes,
when people are fractious,

and disgruntled, but thinking I am the problem,

I like to remember the small blessings:

a cup of tea in the morning
in my favourite Dog Lover mug;

the fact that, if I give it time,
my head will eventually recover

from the trauma of awakening, and will
adjust to being upright;

that, after a shower, (a shower! such a blessing,
when so many have no water at all),
there is an hour-long window

when I can either go out
or get something done
before I have to lie down.

These small blessings make
the big blessing possible:

that I am still here, in my sweet cozy rooms,

still alive, in this place that is
so beautiful to me,  so necessary to my soul;
that however slowed down

I am, and silent, and disheartened
with  how the world  is conducting itself,
I am still alive to witness blue skies,

that sky I have loved all my life,
and those endless, eternal waves,
rolling in and out. That, no matter 

how difficult people are being
all over the planet,

in response to the trauma of our times,
there is still goodness, everywhere,
beauty, everywhere.

That there is still a planet we can save,

if we all wake up together and hear

what Mother Earth is telling us

in all her many voices.

Sigh. Sometimes I get disheartened. But I remember that Mother Earth, while desperately distressed, is still trying so hard to live and she needs our help.

Wildfires are burning in Canada. One community of 5000 has been evacuated. It is only May. I don't hear the government talking about lowering emissions, which should be the first priority. The news is distracted by someone south of the border who is totally unfit for office, yet is taking up all the air waves. When will we emerge from this coma and move into doing the work that so urgently needs to be done?