Kendall In Love
What to do about love
Fling it like seeds, toss it like leaves,
scatter it like petals, whirl in it,
dance it, spin it, believe there will
always be more. No end of it.
Be profligate, spill it; be excessive,
hurl it, let it twirl off the fingertips
like a frisbee, like a boomerang,
flip it like a pizza. Wrap it like an afghan
over her feet, over hard chilly nipples,
cover her head, tie it like a cashmere scarf
under her neck. Let it go. It will multiply,
like starfish it regenerates, infinite as stars.
Heave it like a shot-put, see how strong,
how solidly it lands. In this Olympics, game on.
We are old women pushing seventy. We are going to die. This is the only certainty. Each day there is less time. We say yes. This is the time. Our last shot. No holding back. Quick, before that house of darkness, what can we make together?
We have arrived in each other’s lives. We say, “Come in. I have waited so long for you.”
We are two old Buddhists, well-matched, a good fit. Her root teacher is Ruth Denison and mine is Godwin Samararatne. Both teach being in the present moment, filled with gratitude. We carry their gifts into this yes. We say yes, yes, yes, bowing to life deeply.
Hallelujah.
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