Poem by Dan Stone
I call this, ease.
A happy place
with only what
I truly need
to feel my joy,
my bowl filled
to the brim
with only
what is sweet,
with golden truth
and friends who
gladly please,
with simple pleasures,
beauty I can see
and share,
with light
that never dims
no matter who
or what is
or is not there.
I trust these times
to fill my cup
to wake me up
from heavy sleep
from weighing wrongs
to recognizing
all that’s right
and real and strong,
to shiny treasures
all still true,
still bright,
still mine.
I call this, ease.
A happy place
with only what
I truly need
to feel my joy,
my bowl filled
to the brim
with only
what is sweet,
with golden truth
and friends who
gladly please,
with simple pleasures,
beauty I can see
and share,
with light
that never dims
no matter who
or what is
or is not there.
I trust these times
to fill my cup
to wake me up
from heavy sleep
from weighing wrongs
to recognizing
all that’s right
and real and strong,
to shiny treasures
all still true,
still bright,
still mine.