may it be here

May it be here,
In this life that screams “Mom, Mom, Mom!”
In the rushing breeze
And noisy trees.
May it be here,
In my sweat,
In my running shoes,
In the storm that could soak us.
May it be here,
Between bursts of rationality,
Probing themes of time and energy.
May it be here,
Among the aimless wanderers,
A park bench, and the weeds,
May it be here,
With sirens and rain in the distant air,
The wind whooshing more and more.
May it be here,
In this body, in these clothes,
With an empty belly,
And a stuffy nose.
May it be here,
That I live.
The children flying on swings to foreign lands.
With their quick feet and strong willful bellies,
A sacred power animating their forms.
Their stampeding-elephant wills, May sometimes make me feel as if I’ll be run over.
One child is a bird,
And one a Tarzan,
And I love this.
But I have to admit sometimes I don’t know how to be with them.
I forget myself in my exhaustion.
I front power plays, I bluff serenity.
Then I remember the power of intention.
And it is here in the panic and anxiety that I allow my heart to drink vats of gratefulness.
It is here I relearn to play their game,
A play inherited by the power that moves them, that power that moves me too.
It is here I find imperfection and grace and empowerment.
And it is here that resistance falls
And the drama in my mind settles like dust.
I smell rain and am awash with a sense of knowing
I borrow their hearts and their ears
May it be here
That I live.