March 29
Laughing is knowing I need glasses to better read and write the words I already see.
Knowing the pressure felt on my ears is the passage of time.
Feeling the pull of the living page while in the field a rabbit looks whimsical, curious.
Living in this moment of breathing in and out the air which caresses cold my legs.
Loving the birds who depend on me for temporary food, and I on them for eternal joy.
Eternity is not an ever-stretching universe gnashing against a finite imagination.
It is this soft heart of morning: laughing, knowing, feeling, living, loving.
