To be here, feeling like this: a miracle. Tightrope-perched, high, eyes like hawk’s eyes. In a field of light, welcoming light, beckoning. I am invited; I am welcome. Here is a seat for me, facing warm faces, open smiles, vast minds. Here activity and rest, work and play, are the same. A gentle pendulation. Easing, guiding, listening: for fullness of feeling, fullness of being, spring showers & spring sun falling steadily upon the cave-mouth of the heart. Beckoning forth a wind from within: the unclenched jaw, the song stirring to life. Sister Tasha, what’s the good word? Come down from your flight and sit with me. Swing gently in miraculous breeze. Feel the unfolding of the unfolding that has been happening this whole time but we could not see it. The ripening of the ripening that has been going on right under our noses. Sister, let’s sing a song, a wordless prayer. Let’s pass the time in harmony. Sister, yesterday & today & tomorrow we are crowning new humans. Blinking eyes and gurgling bellies, flowers rising through green fuses, sun-fed, mother-kissed, safe. Safe. Keeping, staying, walking alongside: these noble arts. Following, asking, again listening: these noble arts. Let us ride atop the logic of this love & let us sleep under its green canopy. Yesterday & today & tomorrow. ___ *March 2021*