way of hoping

anxious to have hope

but knowing how little my concept

of me

stacks up against what matters

to what is

perhaps i might try to see me as part

of the whole rather than

particle

range

mt hood pine-screened, misted

by distance and chilled morning dew

tinged now with warming orange

as the sun insists on break of day

from far beyond our little planet

rocks in the water

rocks in the water

barriers, obstacles to navigation

of man’s commerce

yet creator of tiny resting places

for fish migrating upstream

and small hurdles to be leapt

aerating the stream, delivering

oxygen for gilled creatures

contributing to life rather

than merchandizing

when the sun don’t shine

perspective deepened for many people

during the moon’s journey

between earth and sun

daytime darkness obliged us to think

above the busy-ness of our lives

to our relationship with the planet-

and star-sized scales of our solar system

and perhaps beyond to our Sol’s

place in our galaxy and universe

such perspective is not humiliating

but properly humbling, giving rise

to thoughts of what matters enough

to consider important

in our brief lives

on reading The Life of John Donne

Izaak Walton looked at sainthood

with eyes and concepts so different

from my own

assuming ‘ownership’ of wives

and the ‘good fight’ in terms

of racking up points – not in this

world – but primarily in the next

so, for all Walton’s humor and enthusiasm, i read of his friend’s sacrifices and trials

lamenting the loss of Donne’s striking

words rather than taking joy

in marvel of his pain

only part

we are only part

until we learn to give up self

we know not the vastness

of the whole