Bright as Birth

Eleven in the morning on a Sunday
Is this the hour I came for?
Is this the perfect sip of good black tea?
Perhaps this is the bird I came to hear.
Or maybe, my body is arrived to now
to smell the jasmine wafting rich across my patio.
Perhaps I am alive
for this moment of seeing the crimson rose.
in its bottle of blue
next to the bowl of fresh fat mangos
Or for touching these keys beneath my fingers
to unlock the words of my heart.

Each of these moments could be
the final one, bright as birth.
Any one of these might be
my avenue to slide to larger life,
my time of flight from what is physical.
I think I shall not miss my good black tea,
the sound of birdsong, or smell of jasmine.
But relishing now, I shall be grateful then,
shall remember well the earthy joy,
the wondrous gift
of being alive in the arms
of the body of a living planet.

©Susa Silvermarie 2024