...keeps the doctor away. As I lose almost a pound a day, I gain a miracle in exchange. Not a bad trade. I am at Green Acre this week doing my part to encourage fellow writers of books and other art forms for children. On the third floor of the 19th century inn is the preserved room where Abdu'l-Baha stayed in 1912. I have not been there in years because of weight and bad knees. Today's miracle is that I will go there after the morning class and prayer for a particular family. This poem appeared a few mornings ago left on my pillow by the Poetry Angel. I know I did not write it or wish to write it because I will attach a memory to it that will live as long as I live.
A Thousand Balloons
I am a leaf in the wind that has
fallen from the Tree of Life
no matter where the wind takes me,
it is still Your Sky.
I awake with the dawn currents
I go to sleep with the night breeze
and in between I listen for Your Wisdom
heard in the rustling of the trees
in the impatience of the waves yearning
for Your Shore
It is Your Breath that has filled a thousand balloons
And when You inhaled, they returned to You.