One thing we know for sure:
this world is full of discord,
turbulence, and tribulation.
It does not heal
the wounds of Mother Earth,
to focus on all that tears
and plucks at her fabric.
We don't forget the starving millions,
the guns and bombs,
the lacerated hillsides,
the polluted skies and seas,
our distress but one tear drop
in a sea of global grief.
It is when we stop to marvel at
a certain slant of amber light
upon the trees at four p.m.,
catch our breath at gauzy morning clouds
enfolding the mountainsides,
or we listen to the ceaseless ebb and flow
of the forever tides,
following a lunar cycle as old as time,
that our one teaspoon of joy
is added to the river of blessings
overflowing to us, generously, still,
midst the clamor and the tumult
that is the way of man.
The dazzling display
of the ten thousand things*
is illuminated in golden fire,
as the sun rises and sets,
blessings strewn in our path
as lavishly as stars
flung across the heavens,
each to be noted and savored
through the spilling cornucopia of our days,
unwrapped with gratitude,
treasured, acknowledged,
then folded away,
each nightfall,
in memory,
with love.
*The Ten Thousand Things is the Taoists' way of saying "everything that exists"
