The Absence of Want
Don’t remember before
feeling this,
the absolute absence of want.
In need of nothing
not food, not amusement nor funds
I sit here – absorbing the flight of the hawk overhead.
Complete attention
with peace in the space where empty usually sits.
Empty is heavy and dull,
sucks the energy from my body;
a chunk of obsidian that sits inside my chest.
The absence of want feels . . .
refreshing.
A spiritual drink.
Soft – the way the
blue water of Lake Michigan
looks at my feet.
This moment – you gave me
a gift hauled up – whole
from the sand, far below.
A gift worth no price
No charge
My heart is full –
no room for empty,
want of nothing.
tsr
9-4-11
