Gift

Beneath a meteor shower in cold November wrapped in a duvet on an old lounging chair, stretched out, watching those streaks of flaming embers race across the dark, crystal clear midnight air, I almost wished upon one bright shooting star; but checked greed’s impulse as I remembered there a saying my father taught, brought from afar ‘he who wants everything misses everything’. so I lived in the gift, given by that star. Noble truths teach, wanting leads to suffering, to learn to live with the moment that’s given that impermanence is the way of all things that you cannot hold on to what is leaving. So now my face carries melancholy eyes I shall not bend or break to tears or grieving Instead I shall stretch under nature’s skies and turn my eyes, towards the gift of living.