Stay and Play

The wind has sped off
somewhere else, has left behind
cool light air that
brushes my skin gently.
Little flies bob up and down
and a sheep bleats in the
nearby field.  The red
squirrel is back and
all the different birds sing in
unison a cappella their unique notes.

I sew, today, gentler
on my body.  A privilege
it is not to have to
speed off somewhere, with
another task to do.  I can
stay and play.  Here's to
a life well-lived, even
full with trial and rude
people.  The firebird
flits through the trees
trailing crimson waves,
killing all the weeds,
I am thankful for
all my deeds, even
the bad ones, the miseries,
the bad fruit.  I did the
best I could, moment to
moment.  The firebird
croaks and goes.  I stay
and play:  no more ledges,
no more ghosts, here and
now is good - it is all
I can ask, and it is

One Year Round The Sun
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