At every turn I have looked
listened, felt around for a door
a door here and a door there
one that would open
let in the air
let me aboard
not afraid nor bored
or in doubt
always leaning toward
life, whatever would restore
the child’s enthusiasm
the young man’s excitement for the next adventure.

So many doors:
music, art, trees, flowers,
incense, a lover’s lips,
poetry, stories, a lunar eclipse,
lizards, drums, psalms,
the smell of her hair, the feel of her arms.

Still I search for a door open to the light
to heaven and depth and height.

Light rain falls into my day
darkened skies hang low
inside dry suffused dismay
and a small nagging unease
reminds me a clear sunny day
is a gift in the murky malaise
to make this persistent haunt
bearable
until again light reigns.

When I try to hold on to a lovely present
its gift disappears.

I have slowly loosened the grip
of one hand on hell
for a slow and gradual gain
but its persistent flame
still licks at my soul
has made me old
and beat in its heat.

I will not win this fight
with the dark and hoary blight
til I loosen both hands
to be wholly free
for the warm and deep embrace
of heaven’s healing grace.

You are in the waving limbs
of the pear tree in spring
the inquiring yellow eyes of my cat
the majesty and vastness of the roaring sea
the lively brown eyes of my lover
the soft sobs of saying goodbye
to his precious wife after illness
the soft hop of the toad
the light of the fireflies
the moments of their darkness
the birds who dip and drink
from small puddles of collected rain
the male cardinal feeding his mate
you laugh in the giggle of a toddler
and abide there in his tears
you are the unrestrained laughter of a wife
at her husband’s clumsy goof
the closing off from those we love
and the unfolding of life in isolation
you are my higher power
beyond even the strongest moments
of my fighting ego
as a swift wind
swaying and singing with the sage
and dancing with the sunflower stalk in spring
you show me how to wait
how to breathe in the peace of dawn
how to be.

After a moment of small grace
I realized in its presence there is nothing small.

Don’t brag about your good fortune in bad weather
unless you’re ready to hear how theirs is better