Language of life is lessons (love is bliss of learning)

Written on a bench nearby Golden Gate Park and Baker Beach, after traversing ~2 miles on well-trod trails along the north and west coast of the San Francisco peninsula, up and down craggy cliffs, to soft beach sand staring out at infinite Pacific seas, to gravel trails up steep hills, and across the abandoned concrete barracks from an outmoded military mindset, while the wind whipped and the wildlife wove their life patterns through–I, absorbed in observing my changeful environment, healing from the shift in mental mode, and synthesizing self-salient lessons from my observations. I had just emerged from two heavy days of processing conversation on regenerative futures with the cohort at Bloom Pollination. Fortunately, I knew what I needed, and I knew to go get it, and what “it” was, was contacting the living wider world.

Pelicans glide
on the choppy breeze
In formation
so as to feed off
each others’ lift
like people do
when their conversations
circulate lift
under the wings
of our dreams.

I too, have stayed still,
stoic, a seeming stone
against the tides of life
while hunting Truth.
Watching keenly.
As the world around me
danced interactively.
For years such a stance
served me. I seized and
fed on Truth, getting fat.

I think it may be
that to Make Meaning
from our living
is all
our living

The falcon stays put.
Hard and still
against the changeful air
deftly riding nuanced
flux to stay in place.

This is because
the falcon hunts.

Though today, I am rather
ready to paint the sky and sea
with collective arcs
of easeful beauty,
friendly to the forces
that encompass
us and me.