All of life in a single blade of grass--
a universe that is vast, yet green,
and rooted in the rich soil of my valley.
Life. A blade of grass. The universe.
The Sacramento Valley. Tell me, friend,
how fine is it to be alive?
And how sweet is this valley?
“We’re not looking for ‘I’ poems.”
Outside the sky is the color of an old dime,
and it is rather cool for May in California.
Doves land on my patio and eat
the bird seed that I left there for them.
Every poem is an ‘I’ poem.
Every last one of them.
Being fully present to what is—without judging or evaluating or wanting something different—is the most basic act of love.
-C. W. Huntington, Jr.