When the TV is off
miracles happen.
They happen all the time, really,
but who can see them when beer
and guts are flashing on the screen?
These chairs represent the remnants of a miracle,
a small one yet one so very great,
a time spent with people I love,
with no interruptions
or electro-magnetic noise.
Wrapped in blankets, we watched the stars wander westward
talking (imagine that) to each other and listening
to the ancient story of the sea
narrated on the rocks below.
We all live together
in one house,
yet someone else has taken charge
dropping ideas, good and bad (mostly bad),
into our supple minds,
filling us with fear and
feeding separation,
closing our eyes
to the miracles in
our own home.
I am no poet, but there was no better way for me to describe how beautiful it was to spend such a night with my family.
Do yourselves a huge favor and pull the plug. I’m throwing mine out completely.
In the old days, people used to gather on the verandas and share their moments with each other, singing songs for entertainment and looking into each others eyes….. how many of us do that today?
Be well….
