(Not) A weather report

Image from Lucy's album

My attention is torn from my writing
by the sudden, raucous rustling of leaves
in the high, sprawling branches of the fig trees
unfurling noisily in blasts of wind
like waves
in a grumbling ocean
whose roar grows very loud
then recedes into
disquieting periods of
quiet

They are lusty and strong, these leaves
Spring's latest and uncontrolled litter
Thrusting upward and spread flat
Harvesting sunlight to fuel
organic factories

We have a mutual respect, I think,
for each other
though not necessarily, mutual
benefit
I cannot help but think that I have
given them little
while they have given me
so much more

Only now can I truthfully say

Image from Lucy's album

You cut the cord of conditional love
by leaving.
I tried desperately to repair it –
Tears, pleas, remonstrations, messages, silence
A pitiful ensemble of self-inflicted pain
and, fortunately,
impotent

Meanwhile, the stream flowed
as steady as ever
unperturbed
like a sleeping
babe

I sat by it
days and nights
wondering at its constancy
its unremarkable magic
of being shaped by the land around it
yet wearing it away
and every stone or boulder in its course,
eventually

Such, I realized, is the nature of
unconditional love
Indeed, there is no other love
for that is love’s quality -
unconditional

And like the stream -
constant
and like its unremarkable magic -
unstoppable
And like the love I’ve now discovered -
free, limitless and without
need

Only now can I truthfully say:
I love you.

For what it's worth

For what it's worth
my arms are open
my heart is warm
my thoughts are loving

For what it's worth
my breathing is gentle
my eyes see goodness
my steps are chosen with care

For what it's worth
I'd rather leave this earth
having sought only peace, joy, goodness and freedom

For what it's worth
I'm still discovering
my uncaused, infinite, imperishable worth.

And what about you?