portals

in

the

same

way

the

bubbling

brook

beseeches

one

back

into

the

body,

back

into

the

eternally

fleeting

moment

so

too

does

pen

to

paper

sweat

to

brow

thread

to

needle

tears

to

laughter

not to

mention

those

moments

when that

jiggy

takes

over

and you

rhythmically

remember

your hips

and your

feet

and your

neck

and your

breath

and your

soul

like

sages

of

eternal

truth

these

acts

transform

from

hopeful

silly

mundane

matters

into

portals

to the

present

for to

accept the

invitation

of their

participation

is to

accept the

invitation

of life:

to be

exactly

where you

are,

to

re-root

yourself

in the

heart

and to

respond

to the world

from there

the

future

you

hope

to build

can

only

be

constructed

in the

present

and the

great

migration

each of

us

has

to make

is from the

head

to the

heart

which

is to

say:

to

believe

the brook

when

it tells

you the truth.