Nimble to Zen

 

Fingers laced through the handle of my coffee cup

warming my hands

I gaze out through my patio door

It’s a colourless February day

Yesterday’s rain and wind have melted the piles of snow

But I know, winter is far from over.

I look up and see a squirrel scamper nimbly without a care

along the wires that criss-cross my backyard

From there he jumps onto an outstretched tree limb

runs along it then up and around the trunk, making

his journey all the more interesting

as no other beastie, two-legged or four

is chasing him and I see him no more

Was it that long ago that I was so intrepid?

Without a thought I would climb

to the top of the monkey bars

and stand on the summit, arms outstretched

fearless, though heart thumping

(there is no proof as no way would

mom or dad have approved)

There is not enough money in the world to get me to do that again.

©Ron Jones

Just last September, I gingerly made my way to my roof

stepped onto the rusty little table, then up onto the fence

(around my propane tank)

holding on for dear life to the house roof

as I hauled myself up onto the garage roof (lower)

I stood up, legs wobbly, heart pounding

but feeling exhilarated

(No matter that I have watched my son

hop, step and jump his way up with nary a care

sigh)

still

I am not so feeble that I daren’t try

And how it was worth it!

I may not be as nimble; I may not be as quick

but that’s okay because I still do things

that make my heart quicken and me feel alive

I have also learnt that it is quite okay

to step back, centre, stretch, meditate

and find my Zen

Even the squirrels find the time