There is a smoothness to the

Texture of ordinary days.

Ease and effort are the same,

Quiet gentleness and holy light.

Each object flowing effortlessly

Into every other object yet each

Remaining what they are .

“Water takes the shape of the vessel that contains it,

Yet has no shape of its own” (Mooji)

What is my place in this quiet?

I am the water outside of the vessel,

The space the wind occupies between the trees,

The pause between the breaths.

I observe he smoothness of ordinary days and

feel the light that exists at the center of the flower.

And know that  he and I have become one.

(Poem #3 of the April Poetry Month’s 30 poems in 30 day challenge)

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