BY FRANK J. TASSONE · 16TH NOVEMBER 2017
Robins, sparrows, and cardinal songs through an open window. Bacon sizzling from the kitchen. The flickering tongue of an indifferent Senhora da Fatima Candle in a drape-rustling breeze.
Seated on the zafu, legs folded on the zabuton. A tenuous hold of intention through a frail vessel of awareness. Breathing.
Presence. Calm reassurance resonating from the gut. Still there.
Always, “I am.”
sound of birdsongs and wind
first published in Image Curve, November 16, 2017
UPDATE: for dVerse Poets Pub OLN–Happy Birthday