In all things
Even death
To understand this
Is to master life
To master life
One must master death
To understand this
Is to master life
To master life
One must master death
The azure sky
Suspended upon its downy bed
Of purest white
Extremes of a year’s journeys
Found in a single switchback descent
Just ahead of a desert sunset
Somehow, I find
All of it
Beautiful
The good days
The bad days
The days that broke me
The days that healed me
The days I shone
The days I withdrew into shadow
These were the days which made me
These were the days of reckoning
These were the days which guide me
I carry them all
In my burgeoning knapsack
A dull weight
On my shoulders
Then one day
I realize
I carry a burden
Impeding my progress
So I stop at the side of the trail
Open my knapsack
Look inside
All these days!
All these dark days!
Why do I carry them?
I take out the bad days
Leave them beside the trail
Take out the broken days
Leave them beside the trail
Take out the days of shadow
Leave them beside the trail
The knapsack feels lighter
I walk easier
Manage even a skip in my step
So I seek the beauty
In every moment
I find it
Almost always
A lesson as valuable
For the photographer
As for the pilgrim
This perfect is mine
Not the valley’s
Not the light’s
Not the clouds’
I remind myself
True happiness
Is found in finding
The perfect in everything
Cabs stacked up
End to end
Filled with fares
Or seeking them
Crowded shops
Pedestrians
Littered streets
Swept clean by morn’
So full of life
Activity
This crowded block
Where could it be