Working at writing, time slipped by.
The time to stop had arrived unannounced,
except by the pink underbelly of the clouds
watching the sun set over the ocean.
Walking through the vineyards and blackberry bushes,
I notice the five-o-clock wind blowing in from the ocean,
cooling the air-temperature down to a luxurious body wrap.
How many years had I walked and never noticed wind?
Home to eat homemade broccoli soup,
then out to water the plants
and pick a bouquet of daisies and roses for the Buddha.
before settling in by the fire
to listen to a dharma talk before bed.
How can such a simple life be so full?