8.10.16 The turning of our lives

Initially not working seems just like loss. 

But like everything else in our lives, 

slowly meaning and value and depth of a new sort slips in.

Being around so much, being quiet so much 

after an upbringing with six siblings; 

with a household as an adult with at least three, 

if not four or six kids in the house, 

the quiet is a desperate welcome change. 

As if blessed to have had all that content and its duty and chaos 

that often was so sweet and meaningful, 

and now be mandated to be quiet and still. 

So that I come across many of the other species in my neighborhood. 

Their winter tracks or the sighting of coyote family; 

the deer, possum, weasel, raccoon, bear or fox.
Differentiating, by repeat meetings,

 the various avians whose home is the same neighborhood I call my own. 

The frogs, toads, snake , their habits year after year. 

So that I get to know individuals, 

and like friends of another feather or fur or coat or skin, 

I think of them after seeing them care for their young. 

I feel good after seeing them cross the road gracefully , how fit and healthy they are.

I think of them and imagine how they are, what their lives consist of; 

where they sleep and wake. How they fare on this terribly hot humid night, 

or in the midst of the cold winter days. 

Somehow my own life broadens slowly and without warning, 

as the unthinking unintellectual reality regains its natural footing .

So that it is not a thought nor belief but simply what is, 

that here we all are, together, and I am wishing them well.