Poetry is beautiful–words perfect crystals conveyance gorgeous gargantuan sentiments, ohpoetry falling across my hips and angels and so many of us have lived in poverty, so many. And still there is beautiful and now my poverty but i can do this. Eileen Myles spends the whole time in “Inferno: A Poet’s Novel” talking about the poet in poverty and I can do this. Something always shows up in the nick of time. I know how to live like this, how to buckle down. I have what I need today, and it’s just one day at a time. That’s all we ever have no matter how much money and there are many kinds of poverty like Mother Teresa said and the following are not my afflictions: spiritual poverty, intellectual poverty, relational poverty, emotional poverty. I am clear.
What else is beautiful. Autumn. Reds, salmon, gold, green, crackling leaves, maple syrup, Seattle, all these trees and fresh air. The love of Autumn. I have known so many kinds of love!
Look at all these leaves changing color, all this dying back, losing what is unnecessary, shriveling into ourselves, into our one grain of spiritual sand. All these connections buried, our rootwork beating beneath the leaves, the sweet sugarsmells of Katsura tree leaves, decaying. Decay and candy share many letters.
Remember writing practice? Remember Natalie Goldberg living in that coldwater cabin eating beans and teaching writing workshops and writing writing writing? I can do this!
Also beautiful is this cup of coffee, and the free half-pound of delicious coffeebeans the manager gave me even though I’m not always nice to him. My red boots are beautiful. Even though the soles are ripping away and no longer have traction on slippery Seattle streets, these boots are beautiful. It is beautiful, teaching at Bent Writing. I am beautiful. Aquarian star I have so much to give. The world I’m gonna keep on giving. Keep caring keep going trying keep growing. Connecting with my family. Goddard College is beautiful. I’ll stay up until midnight every night, writing.
None of this needs to be perfect.
My health is beautiful. How magic my body! My friendships are beautiful, in all their many shapes and stripes. Teaching is beautiful–coaxing things out, facilitating, hearing their voices, coming alive, in-spirited, inspired. My Orca card (public transportation) is beautiful. The 4-leaf-clover distribution network is beautiful. Clarity is beautiful. Sobriety, beautiful. People growing is beautiful.