art music poetry 72

                 Ibis-Billed Sparrow

Once, when I spilled,

No one cared.

(The cleaning was so simple.)

Imagine the tender

Thoughts that evolved

From an experience unseen.

Feel with me

What I felt that day.

Share, if you can

(with me)

What I have done,

What you have done.

An experience

(of)

Our own, to own forever.

Eachness into a

Oneness of unseen . . .

Now, when I spill,

Someone cares.

(The cleaning was so simple once.)

written at age 22