Being Here Now

How is it that I walk down the street
noticing my sore knees, stiff legs,
aching back - watching my feet
and not the cloud-dotted sky,
the robin on the lawn, the sudden run
of a chipmunk into the bushes?

Lift up your eyes, I tell myself.
There is a sky-show going on
that you are missing.

How is it that I eat mindlessly,
barely tasting the food, so that
hunger is never satisfied?

Slow down, a voice within me says.
Be here now. Notice everything.
It is a world of wonders.

The old black dog with grizzled snout
and wolfy ears knows this very well
without words. He stretches out 
on the grass in the shade, gives 
a contented sigh, enjoys the play of the breeze
on his long whitened nose -
everything is perfect.
Everything in this moment
is just as good as it can be.
He wants nothing more -
except, maybe, a juicy bone
when he gets home.