THE GIFT OF MY MAGIC

—for my sister Nancy, and her husband Richard, on her birthday
When I was in my early twenties,
My sister,
Let me stay in her apartment in NYC.
She found me a job,
In a theatre bookshop.
Her husband,
Gave me another job,
Running his coffeeshop,
And found me an apartment.
They looked after me,
Made sure I grew up,
To value these things,
And most importantly,
Value being together.
NYC wasn’t always
Pretty in those days,
But there was something,
In the way they lived,
Enjoying their lives,
And the things they did together,
With Friends and family,
It got passed along,
In the atmosphere around them.
Sometimes magic
Is just a look in your eye,
A change in your voice,
When you greet someone.
Sometimes it takes effort.
I learned that back then,
And I know it now.
It can make all the difference,
And change your life.
Seeking serenity we developed meditation,
Or recognized it as such,
as a disciplined and sober lifestyle that seems to offer much
But,
Now,
We know the world is in an uproar,
All the time,
And have the means to know it and bring it with us
Everywhere we go.
This constant buzz for our attention,
Leaves us with disturbed breath and unconstrained fear.
Deservedly so.
The remedy is what it has always been:
Sitting,
Quiet talk,
Or no-talk,
Or
Storytelling.
Finding inspiration inherent in the striving for sunlight.
That brief moment of faith.
Recognizing,
that even though everything is changing, moving fast,
We can still do something about it
With the goodness that is in our hearts.