Liberat.es
Sunday
It’s been a little while since I’ve written a poem. Thought I’d do one today.
There’s madness in the things we enjoy –
what brings us to the edges of feeling alive,
the spaces we encounter our essence.
To the men and women, boys and girls –
and beyond the illusion of a binary choice
– who enjoy a mud covered face on a
Sunday morning, road (trail) rash, let’s lift
a glass. To those in the pews, the ones
sipping tea in a neighborhood gathering
spot, those nursing a hangover, let us say,
“blessings.” Take a breath and notice how
what is felt here is felt in all of those. The
way we choose to live, given freely. The
sense of experience, the core of aliveness.
This might be all that really matters.