Wonderful people say,
“Have a blessed day”
And I respond, if not out loud,
Each day is blessed,
Have you not noticed?
While not living on a cloud
But on a clod
Of earth that’s ever birthing,
One which in so many ways
Behaves unworthy -
If one is a faith-filled learning,
Seeing patterned chains of luck
(We call coincident)
A trusting sureness grows within the daily doings.
When we see the daily screwings
A new eruption,
There is that umbrella shield
That takes it all into account,
Making universal laws the blanket:
Yin and yang, the karmic cause…
The man of faith is left in awe,
Left with the feeling that at root
We don’t lose out.
To those who doubt
This must sound like a potpourri
Of mumbo jumbo, drivel, bunk,
Bilge, bosh, guff:
All and every made-up stuff
For me and my like-minded friends
Every day’s a blend
Of now that changes every second
And a now that has no end.
This poem is dedicated to Bhaghirath Choudhary, a kind and generous Facebook friend who sends admiring and encouraging notes regarding my poetry.
Spiral Abstract -- Phil Cummings