Author: Michael Angelo

I want you to know
that this life of yours
is the sunshine shimmer
on a pond’s surface.

You may not feel this,
you may be overwhelmed
by guns firing inside your head,
but believe me

you really are
the morning and mist
on leaves.

When you open your eyes, you begin
the World.

You are born every day,
and every day
you are found mixed within particles of earth:

cool grasses of evenings
soft and curled underfoot,
seasons praying
in every natural tongue and tone,
snowflakes alight with firestorm passions
sacrificing themselves for a flower’s growth.

Yes, I know
the demands of the day seem not to end,
that debts continue to grow fatter and more deformed,
that friendships lose their color and grow old,
and that loneliness sometimes creeps in
at festivals, on roads, in waters,
above cities, within
quiet along the ledge
of the limits of your pain,

but please, do not ignore the simple truth sprouted:

the body that is your mind that is your World.

Always remember that you are rooted
deep within the womb
of time and space and matter and breath.

Do not ignore the rising of your chest
as you stretch the branches of your arms beyond
the rippling blue blanket that drapes
dreams and hopes,
songs and prayers,
in the miracle of sky.

Between your fingers,
those gentle twigs,
beams

the sun
of the Individual.

It wakes after the night
breaks

and falls.

     Do you hear that?
     A baby’s first cry,
     the first ripple in the pond.