I’m participating in Sharon Salzberg’s 28-Day Real Happiness Meditation Challenge again this year, and my plan for this blog series is to write a poem or reflection on each day’s practice. You can find all the responses on the landing page.


It's ticking already, the loud bright
instant we slide without warning –

goodbye quiet wet world
hello clattering dry world,
fathomless and occult.

Day one, and we'll only be older,
more surprised every moment after,
all the days that follow:

no more kindergarten naps,
no more learning to swim,
no more adored first pets, junior high lockers,
simple and unbearable first loves,
overwrought college dorms,
trips to big cities or summer beaches with the family,
and all the rest that tumbles, one way or another,

all the rest tripping inevitably down the stairs
like light flickering through a transom window,
briefly resting, rung after rung,
warmth, then warmth withdrawn,
the sun slips across the constant sky,
afternoon light, another day ending,

the body we've inhabited from the very start
keeping score, counting down, still napping
on a foam mat, escaping with other small people 
who live on sleep and dreams,
still moving our arms in sharp strokes,
the chlorine our chemistry, the buoyancy our physics,
still carrying it all, all the moments,
as we slip again into waiting water,
a pulsing ocean that holds us like a heartbeat
under a dazzling morning sun.

© MW 4 Feb 2023


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