The World Is Turning

"....and I hope it don't turn away....". Kids search for signal around camp, handheld out and pointing skyward, heads down while I search the clouds for new weather. They flip their lids when they see one bar and I hope I don't lose my legs. I'm one of the older folks, ripened at 28, and I just added $20 to my cellphone for my voyage back to our gravel pit campsite. Even I wonder if there'll be coverage. One thing I know for sure: I ain't gotta call Her collect.

Setting Forth To A Sea of Green

The Old Poet's Waking

The old man's heart woke,

no longer in love with treble and bass,

without weeping or laughter.

In the true bewilderment of soul

he went out beyond any seeking, beyond words

and telling, drowned in the beauty,

drowned beyond deliverance.

Waves cover the old man.

Nothing more can be said of him.

He has shaken out his robe,

and there's nothing in it anymore.

There is a chase where a falcon

dives into the forest

and does not come back up.

Every moment, the sunlight

is totally empty and totally full.

A Year With Rumi: May 6