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)