It is inevitable that, as time passes
we leave things behind
even what, and who, we love

Folding without wrinkles
an art in itself
lowly and beautiful

so many lost ones
so many loved ones
you cannot lose without loving first

But first they wear thin
and then they wear out
and then it's over, so fast

no matter how beautiful they started out

A bunch of sinners if ever you've seen them
with greed, and lust and heaps of carelessness
and self-righteous indignation

Also happy and carefree
corteus and polite
and never unnecessarily cruel

in the eye of the beholder
is all my experience of life
sailing on a smooth blue mountain

revealing nothing, yet everything
playing like a dolphin can speak
I am still learning

to mix metaphors
to make the imagined future come true
to fly

something the tiniest bug
is born knowing how to do
I have to learn

gratitude for my many blessings
to please myself by doing
my laundry