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.
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