
I live on the largesse of the One
Who breathed life into me
even when I forget it and credit
my own hard work instead.
I may congratulate myself
on daily exercise and a nutritious diet,
but this body is a blessing,
good health a gift.
My blind mother and deaf friend
show me how lucky I am
to see and hear a willow tree
billowing in wind-blustered rain.
I walk miles in the storm,
lungs and legs doing the work
they evolved for,
unlike my friend with COPD,
my father with arthritic knees.
Waning moon and winter’s empty fields
tell me my own story.
I am earth
for a little while
breathing Spirit,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Let my repentance be surrender
to this wild fragility,
let me be humble as an acorn in oak duff
at home in the Kingdom of Enough.
Photo courtesy of Sylvia Deck