morning meditation in times of covid

 
First, greeted by the waves.
Then the lone eagle.
My wounded body.
A flock of seagulls.
A seal.
My heavy heart.
I look out to the mountains.
They meet me, too.
Then clouds.
My breath.
Then, nothing.
Beautiful nothing.

Every thing.

All of them, sacred.
Each whispering,
‘It is well.’

Can you hear them?

Attune your ear closely.

It

Is

Well.


R.