The most holy days
Are those spent
Being grateful for
Deep love
True friends
Long walks
Favorite memories
Raucous fun

The most holy days
Are those spent
Being present in
Every breath
Quiet moments
Meaningful work
Family traditions
Joyful celebration

The most holy days
Are those spent
Being open to
New ways
Old paths
Being loved
Giving grace
Living peacefully
The most holy day
Is the one you have
Today

In the midst of preparation
While the quiet before the storm
Rests over you like a warm blanket
Be present in thankfulness

As the food begins to cook
And the flavors of the season
Brush in like a summer breeze
Be present in thankfulness

When loved ones arrive
Bringing their hearts and hopes
Worn like an old favorite shirt
Be present in thankfulness

With blessings given and received
That spread over all you love
Like a first snowfall silently falling
Be present in thankfulness

Cast off the hurry and worry
Open yourself to be loved
Like a great oak reaches to the sky
Be present in thankfulness

Happy Thanksgiving,

Pops

I’m not sure you’re listening
to the unsaid and unheard
conversation that is happening
between moments in the noise
that surrounds every moment

I’m not sure you’re hearing
what seems so loud around you
in the dance around the obvious
thoughts that hang in the silence
between the known and unknown

I’m not sure you know what is
right in the memories so deep
and the moments that drift
by every time you ponder a
future that can never come

I’m not sure, so we still wait
and watch for a time to say
what is unsaid and unheard
until a quiet moment appears
and allows silence to speak

The road not taken
May have been
May still be
A path I’m on
Step by step
In no direction
In a different dimension
I may be a poet
Or a shepherd
Given the choice
Taking a chance
Peeking inside
The cloak of dark matter
The coiled worlds
Outside my vision
In a different dimension
I may be a gardener
Or a physicist
My strings slowly vibrate
Ready to create
Beyond what I see
Through the looking glass
The waves reach
Undulating universes
In different dimensions
I may not be
At all

Tip of the hat to Michio Kaku

full after a storm
muddy and messy
a beautiful glimpse
of abundance
and impermanence
may I be that
this day