PASS IT ON
Sometimes
bliss flows through me
like liquid honey light
and my heart bursts
with ecstatic pain.
I cannot contain the energy.
It is not mine to accumulate
but to pour forth,
to broadcast,
to affirm,
to exude,
to touch your inner core,
that you may realize
your own capacity for joy.
THANKS FOR ALL THE FISH
May again,
my favourite month.
I've lived to see another May,
another few glimpses
of the scilla
along the Rosedale Valley Road
and the gently misting
of green on the tree tops.
I have passed through generous gardens
and the rhododendrons at the front door
are in full blossom.
I will live for moments of sheer bliss
in the matrix of contentment.
I shall see
dawns reflected
in cater-cornered windows
and speak my love and farewells.
I shall have time to wallow in gratitude,
time perhaps for another whiff or two of jasmine
and, maybe, even gardenia.
I look forward,
if I may presume to do so,
to freedom from the computer
and the cell phone
and all once-required trivialities.
I shall have time
to annoy the cat,
who only hangs out with me
for the drugs.
Time to create
the doobie-snuffers
I have been intending for years.
Time to be gobbled by time,
to be swallowed by grace,
to be digested by understanding.
But, I shall try
not to inconvenience you
with dilly-dallying.
I'm dying as fast as I can.
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