Which Is Where We Are Now

Some blessèd mornings
I awake to bliss,
linger in the heavenly cocoon,
and marvel at my luck,
its splendor

Then I bid myself
— stay still —
remembering how
previous awakenings
broke so rare an enchantment

and so I lay,
a happy sacrifice
strewn upon my bed,
altar of contentment

for minutes, hours,
until I let time tumble out of hand
and then, it’s clear as day:
even the infinite bounty of paradise
can be too much…
and I get up

Only when I closed my eyes
did I hear the birds singing

I gazed into the well —
 cloudy perturbations lurked therein
still, I gazed and gazed
 into its very depths
then stood amazed
 to find the blue of heaven
 at its base
and myself there too —
 my head in the clouds

( In my bashfulness,
   I had muted my strings. )
I leave them be —
 Oh, universe, play upon me.

Some souls are polished —
 their lives glinting glamour.

Others take their tumble,
 rolling around in the dirt.

What a treasure to find
 they have always been
 diamonds in the rough.