make everything a thing

6 Nov

Years in coming

but seen now

in spurts

is that the dance of divine energy

(That is just everything)

as far as we can feel and see and smell and lick

is my play dough queendom,

when I arrive at the preschool table

equipped with my able hands

and lively visions

(when I’m not distracted by self-made confusion).

i sit with my boisterous classmates

and we build the world

side by side

in tiny chairs.

We take potty breaks

and breaks for snacks,

but we eventually learn

to make every moment

holy with our attention

and allowance for the flow of joy

through our connected separate.

We have freedom to not,

but also pointing toward,

the seriousness of staying loose

with our wisedom to never marry

any moment or mourn the loss

of any joy.

Courage here is gathering

for holy sleep

and holy tea

and holy walks

and holy conversations with plants and chocolate and blankets

and traffic noise and headaches, too,

holy holding still

holy inner smile

bowing for what is here

giftedly seen through eyes that work

and brain can that can decipher

for now

and a tongue that can stop moving

until the words arrive.

5 Responses to “make everything a thing”

  1. Just Joan November 6, 2020 at 2:12 pm #

    I especially liked the end, Marga, “and a tongue that can stop moving / until the words arrive.” I’ve been at a WP standstill for a while. When the words arrive, I’ll put them out there. 🙂

    • marga t. November 6, 2020 at 3:36 pm #

      You so widen my inner and out smile 🙂 x

  2. Alison and Don November 7, 2020 at 1:39 am #

    Yes! Holy now. Holy backache. Thanks for the reminder. Such a beautiful poem Marga.
    Alison xo ❤

    • marga t. November 16, 2020 at 2:13 pm #

      OH my goodness, how did I miss this! ? Sending tea and squeezes for holy backaches. Bowing your direction, which is what way again? xx

      • Alison and Don November 16, 2020 at 5:40 pm #

        Bowing back from Holy Vancouver. The truth arises not as an idea but as a lived experience that there is no one here, nothing but a fascinating illusion of a me living a life, a play being enacted by no one for no one. All is always well. And holy.
        Alison xox

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