In the sunshine sits a softened soul,
still but breathing
I contemplate
my gratitude—

No!
Look here! Feel here!
Do you feel this beating heart
the coursing blood?
You sing along to the sea gulls
tho’ your eyes be dry—
the spring inside!
It is simply enough to be here
and be breathing;
Her gift to you is reverence
and a sense of proportion.
There is no perfect way to express
no finite way to be.
We are free—
don’t you feel it?! We’re free!