Morning flow -

Jane and I start our engines, begin -

I wake, feeling well.

Birds are singing.

The sky is graced with clouds.

I feel within -

This is a cinch!

I can do this!

My posture is straight,

re-inforcing that I feel great 
-

I can’t even imagine the other here -

the throat that blanches

at the sight and smell of water -

my throat this morning is open and clear -

and I’m not hungry in this place -

not stuffing food down

to assure I'm awake -

I am awake,

and dancing on the tips

of stars I shake,

chocolate, strawberry, vanilla -

I do not break. 

catnip

mandu led

to his new heated bed

by the scent of catnip -

meow, and more, he says -

this cat, catered to, by many -

and what he gives back

could never be gathered -

he opens the sun

and spreads it like butter

on Mars -

hmmm -

I feel open as candy bars,

split to share -

I look out across the valley -

huge homes now,

and I see that for the first time,

I may be visible,

here in this room,

that was always so private,

with only trees, birds, and  sky,

peering in - but this morning

I see that someone with a telescope

might look, perhaps,

and do I care,

as I open up my brain

and sweep out cobwebs

and wipe away strain -



Someone may be looking at us,

from the end of time,

as we look at the beginning -

looking, seeking, searching,

aren’t we always

involved in a game

to see a little more,

probe and soar,

knowing if we pause,

and stagnate,

that we’ll be no more. 

what is this balance

of being and doing

I teeter-totter the sun

and the moon,

up and down they go

being and doing

the moon in reflection

the toes aglow

chemo

my body so adaptable

it keeps coming back

to its place

further down the stream

where the eddies pause

and the stones

are cream