I cannot help but think
of vibrant times

When I felt the blood in my veins
My heartbeat so hard
that my ears were deafened

Moments of Love
and moments of crisis

I linger on them
but not over my work
the endless hours of striving
all for moments
most of which
are landscapes that flow by
I know that rock
I know that tree
in spring summer fall and winter

banality in the ritual of food preparation
excepting on those special occasions
holidays made good by careful intention

we relish what is free
and forget what was hard earned

the gift of you
seems like nothing
next to the gift of her

and yet I become the chore
of meals
and I resent what I already suspected

that I am nothing

but there is no such thing as nothing
only it cousin loneliness

But we cannot be alone
as long as we gift ourselves

no one is too lowly to deserve it
no one is too high to demand it

You are a gift
© Jesse Selin