Maybe Not Lost is Found

A poem I wrote in March of 2021.

Macro to Micro.
Past. Present. Future.
A door opens, a door closes.
Someone gets pink eye.
Pink ribbons of sympathy pains.

Inevitably and hopefully
there will be
a cat purring.

The gift of the oracle comes from

Always Telling The Truth
And
Loving Everybody.

The Guru was right,
Bright Light.

All I know is keep going.
Let integrity lead the way.

Don't worry about what anyone else is doing
If they need your help, they will ask.
When tired, rest.
And it's probably impossible to over-hydrate.

Love is the answer. And the question.

When not slogging it out in slush and hustle, winter can be magical.
Body needs to hibernate more than it needs to escape.

Where are you trying to run to? Run from?
Little lavender one?

A smiley face drawn on my hand by a surgeon who saved my life.
A mother who won't give up just yet.
Parents lost in the woods of minds that become dense with the complexities of loving too much.

Caring until you cut yourself open.

Giant silver fish grants a wish and bleeds for it.

All is not lost. Maybe not lost is found.

Through closed windows I hear songbirds.
The sky is both lit up blue and streaming clouds of potential.

Breathe it all in.
Give it forward.
Connect.
Walk outside today.
Hug a tree
Kiss a leaf
Spin in a circle
Love exactly what IS in all directions.