“The way out is in and through”

First light brutally bright
I ring in the new day
with nerve pain singing
a dirge inside my body

In the still morning
I awaken
unable-bodied
like every morning
needing a loving touch

dependent upon others
to place the sling
operate the lift
and swing me
into my power chair
motoring

This morning I
motor down the ramp
into the spring sunshine
and turn around the cul-de-sac

who needs Europe or the pyramids
when I’ve got my own
Constantinopling neighborhood
to travel

I visit the Mugho pine
the Russian sage
swarming with resin bees
honeybees bumblebees
hairy belly bees and
tiny dark bees flitting about
Snow-Fountain-Cherry tree,
Locust tree,
Mulberry tree –
three Kings bringing gifts
as I travel this Holy Land

I am blessed
by the porches
by the porcelain frog
the stained-glass butterfly
the all-knowing gnomes
a myriad of rock and flower and
cactus and bush and grass and

Now I tilt my chair back
beneath a green canopy
sparkling
as the sparrows sing

Again I tilt my chair back
and enter the kaleidoscope
white clouds shape shift
strolling across Colorado-blue sky

Neverthesame, my wild wondering
sidewalk adventure