There is a small blooming algae
that has come to the creek
that I walk over,
that I cross in the night
carrying my little baggie of bread for the turtles of all sizes.
The blooming has covered the surface in chartreuse
which swirls now as the turtles swim beneath.
Oh, the mystery of a turtle’s mouth as it lunges
beneath the psychedelic dance of green.
Where to toss the bread becomes a guessing game
of chance. How can this night so much the same
as every other night be a world transformed yet again?
No sky is ever the same;
no tide rises to the exact same spot, ever;
all pleasure is solitary and small and everything.
There are so very few who could understand
how secretly happy I am, in the dark,
so alone,
at last no one to tell about my small, singular,
exploding life.
A woman is a powerful being
in her blossoming
which comes long after
anyone can see,
yet her fragrance
is a potion
blessing invisibly, generously
behind her gypsy grin and laugh,
she, a twirling skirt of ascension.
Life as Improv 
Nice One
Nice to meet you here!
How very lovely.
Since waking, I have been in my old habit of obsessing over everything I have to do, rather than sitting in each blessed moment or feeling grateful for these things I have to do – most of which are bound to be pleasurable. This habit is a beast, and I have had much success in the past 2 weeks releasing the obsession – and the results have been so very lovely – but this morning I was back in it, grinding away in obsession and negativity.
You slowed me down and reminded me to breathe, look up from my mind, see what Life really is. Thank you!
Oh yes. there with you in this dance. I’ve been experimenting with doing what I feel like. i am finding that the doing still gets done, just when i remember, it is done when i feel like doing it. today, I will see how it works with 40 essays waiting on my doing list. i hope the doing and BEing flow well for you today.So so nice to visit with you here, this morning, Kelly. Saying hello to you is what I wish to do this morning. 🙂
There is nothing more exquisite than hearing the echo of our own heart in the world, and finally realizing the silence that makes it possible is flooded with presence. To be alone, in bloom, in a night that has never ever been… is there a greater glory? It is shared of course, even alone, it is all shared. (Just think of what those turtles are thinking!?!?)
Wishing you an ecstatic weekend.
Michael
All this ecstasy snuck up on me. I adore your own view of my heart and the shared presence. so rich! x m
My dear M, you just went beyond BOOM and gave us a look into your ‘Forevers.’
You have a way, M, of finding the right single word. I’ve pondered the word “forevers” for days, and it will continue; there is no other way.
So nice to see you blossoming with the turtles and algae. Many witness the fragrance.
Your visit here is a fragrant blessing to me, for sure. So very nice to see you. I wonder what Cheyenne is painting or capturing these days. x m