The Gift of The Moment

Life taken for granted is born out of a loss for the mystery of death and no tears for those without bread
Rebirth is acceptance of death, the end of summer, the beginning of autumn a cold wind turned hot
The rise of and fall of Presidents, Tyrants and Kings
Our flesh and blood turned into the whisper of memory
Oh Great Spirit what do you have in mind for us
The face of everyday people
A smile from a passerby
That toothless lady carrying a bundle of wood
Shoulders carrying the weight of water pots
A flute player in the town square
A farmer loading hay
A monk drawing water from the well
The spirit of a child selling flowers
I am honored wise one that you would give me grace to walk among these people
That a cat should lick my hand
I am kissed by the rain and given and open sky, a sun that warms my body and bakes my bread
What do you have in mind for us old One
What more mystery unfolding from the stars and falling form a butterfly wing will you grant our perception
Will it be a carved elephant from eucalyptus wood its odor upon the breath of my life
A wrinkled hand rising from the earth, dirt and dust under the nails
Rising a coming to life grabbing the moon, holding the sun in the sparkle of their eye
Oh tell me what grand wonder will lay before me that my spirit might encompass such a great majesty of life
That I might hold the tail of a tiger and be serenaded by a school of dolphins
Is there more that you will lift me on the wings of doves and the glory of morning raising from the mist
Light breaking the fog to show me a world, born into a moment of time that I have been gifted like angles and demons to see
Am I lifted only by the breath of my imagination
If so then let my lungs expand to the inhale and exhale of oceans
Holding space in the chest of the Great Mother
Then my footsteps will walk with peasant and King
My tongue will slip on the word all languages eaten by my mouth and tasted by my ears

I will fornicate in the grand ecstasy like it was meant to be sensual, like holding hands was an act of contrition a forgiveness for all acts of distance framed out of fear
I will do your bidding great one and not worship but hold gratitude as though I was a child seeing the world for the first time

J Dino Delano