Gold Dust

author's note:

The world of dew
is a world of dew, and yet
and yet…
       -- Issa (Keene, trans.)

GOLD DUST

Today, I lost so much

for example:

I didn’t stop and allow
my fingertips to explore
the silver frost sparkling
on that mossy stone.

I felt driven to keep moving

and as a result
mostly missed the mysterious
multi-layered voice of the long grass
carried on the wind.

Fortunately
once along the way
the dog in me stopped me still
so I could see that wren perched vertically
on a tall weed stem--

so I could witness
the incredible tenacity
of its small taunt claws.

But after a few seconds
I thought of that nature film
I saw the other evening

and when I looked again
the gold bird had vanished.

Then in the next moment
my body—my spirit
again demanded
the feeling of freedom
movement creates.

So invigorating!
Nonetheless
I need to find a higher drive
that’ll slow my pace
and hold me in one place--
I lost so much today.

And yet
at home tonight
I feel giddy with saturation--fuzzily drunk
on nature’s invisible ambrosia.
I’m a flooded Nile.

Even when I daydream
I take in treasure.

But I realize
I’ll feel even richer
if I become more aware--
if I see what I see
hear what I hear
smell what I smell
and feel what I feel when
I’m right there.

I believe
after we die
we realize the abundance
we unknowingly accumulated
during our human existence.

But why wait?--
I want heaven here on earth.

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