In praise of the lowest life form on earth

Happy Sunday,

This week’s poem came from a sad realization, which then blossomed into a sort of gift. I hope you enjoy it.

on a walk amidst the litter and the blooming trees

I decided that humans are the lowest form of life on earth

for it seems everything else just is

while we ache for presence

for belonging

for more and more

in our ceaseless reaching

look at all we have ruined

as I walked on

I saw a magpie in a low green bush

it was completely at peace

I felt ashamed that I too could not find that peace

but I tried to all the same

I stood in the thin breeze beside it

and breathed slow and let go

and for the slightest of seconds

I was like the magpie

and the blooming trees

and the grasses in the wind

for the slightest of seconds I was at peace

in the way the rest of life always is

but then it was gone and I continued forward

though my judgement of humanity had somehow shifted slightly

for though the tree is perfect all the time

and we are not

there are moments when we can be

when we can for all that is

and exist, briefly, as glory, too

what a gift to be such a small and messy thing as us

what a gift we have

to be able to reach and hold on

to lose it as we must

but to always have the chance

to reach once again

toward the bliss of being

to find it and lose it and find it

again and again

Thanks,

Alexander

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