Today came in heavy and soft
from under the door frame.
It is fall and the green glory of summer has faded
It is almost Halloween
almost an election
a wedding, a birth, a funeral
it is almost winter.
Today I will walk the dogs.
They will scurry up the hill leaving me behind
Then turn in a joyous return.
Today I will ride my bike
Water the plants, cook and eat,
Visit some friends.
Today I will be good.
Because today, this morning
I am facing the mountainside
outside my window,
Fully aware of its incredible inconsistencies
which is what it is
and why it is so profound and poetic;
Because those tectonic plates would not stay put
but continued to shift and sway
to the rumbling rhythms and rancor
perpetually pulsating from Earth's center.
Beware of what those placid plains have to say about death and living.
When the heart receives the call to crash and collide with being,
become a mountain.
Heavy and soft,
rocky and rounded,
enduring of those today's almosts
watching them turn into yesterday's alreadys.
We will gaze up at your towering display of imperfection
and long for such bold sincerity.