"The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery is one of my favorite books. From it comes the famous lines, "But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart..."
I offer my morning flow poem for today.
Accept
no
images today
can that
be so -
a blank
plain appears,
cuts
across my scope -
I color
it in with blue and green,
draw a
black hat crawling to meet
the
knowing of The Little Prince,
who I
particularly want to meet this morning,
as a way
of seeing my own little planet,
through
his love of his -
I was
feeling flat,
flattened
by the pain of one I love -
I try
and lift now, inflate, expand,
to honor
one sheep, all sheep,
each
individual in my field.
Can we
each lift a hoof,
and
place it, nibble the grass,
and
watch it pour out,
as we
observe our turning
under
the microscope
of sky -
size of
our lives, problems,
suffering
- do we minimize
or
magnify, or sit absorbed
in how
to spread the details
like an
archaeological dig
balanced
in the now -
one
flower lives on a plant in the grass;
another
refreshes in a bowl of glass.
Dried
petals and seeds
are examined,
and plucked,
and some
seeds from the past
are
planted and grow to light, and bloom,
millenniums
later.
Is that
why holiday lights are strung
to
remind us of all the years begun
and
gathered at one time to cheer
and
light the pain
igniting
the joy -
The
balancing points the year.
The star
sits atop the tree.
Points
reach out to beam.
We each
are seen in the glow of the top,
as roots
lean in, and out,
supporting
the pulse of the year,
and love
is everywhere, everyone, everything.
Don’t
beat yourself up. Look up and see your
star,
and how
you beam.
Tie
those beams together and stream ribbons;
May-pole
the December light.
