The Thing That I Do

Maturity Brings - Among Other Things - The Ability To Sustain And Survive Enormous Contradictions And Disappointments.

But If You Can Plant Yourself In Stillness Long Enough, You Will, In Time, Experience The Truth That Everything (both Uncomfortable And Lovely) Does Eventually Pass.

The Sound Universe Is Also Spectacular Around Here. In The Evenings There's A Cricket Orchestra With Frogs Providing The Bass Line. In The Dead Of Night The Dogs Howl About How Misunderstood They Are. Before Dawn The Roosters For Miles Around Announce How Freaking Cool It Is To Be Roosters.

One Of These Poems I Wrote After Having Been Here Only A Month. The Other, I Wrote This Morning. In The Space Between The Two Poems, I Have Found Acres Of Grace

I Am Alone, I Am All Alone, I Am Completely Alone. Grasping This Reality, I Let Go Of My Bag, Drop To My Knees And Press My Forehead Against The Floor. There, I Offer Up To The Universe A Fervent Prayer Of Thanks. First In English. Then In Italian. And Then - Just To Get The Point Across - In Sanskrit.