Tonight I Will Not Scurry

Tonight I will not scurry toward the noose
where I often hover in desperate thoughts
of the toothless future
or the wafer consumed in sin.

Tonight I will climb the shaking ladder of love,
fertile and blossoming,
and weave a garland of jasmine
so that I might place it gently
around the neck of the present moment.

Tonight I will dream of leaving all that is undone
and invite the honey and the bee to rest
while we drift on the current of all time.

In this sleeping peace
there is never anywhere to go
and always nothing to do
but extend the hand in kindness
to the whole world.

Climate of the Soul

On this last day of January
where the warmth of a cautious winter
stoically frowns on the melting driveway

it is not lost on my logical self
how lucky I am.

After so many winters of shoveling myself out
of the darkness and cold,
I am freer than I have ever been
to take my cup of tea
and sit quietly doing nothing
while the world brashly ignores my peace.

After my kindness and conscientiousness of duty
to keep the paths clear, I am given this small break
in order to notice an afternoon of joy.

Let the climate of the soul change
and let fear flow away deep into the earth.