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Another Meditation

According to this meditation book, we each possess
a vase—no, we each are a vase—that’s it—
And we, says my book, decide what to fill ourselves
with and we can choose Positive Self-Talk. It doesn’t
mention what falls or drifts or tips accidentally
into my vase. What am I to do with
leaves and snow, pollen, road salt, insects,
occasional tiny frogs or salamanders?
Ferns? Candy wrappers? Cottonwood?
This river otter?
Obviously, I’ve fished out the candy wrappers.
But otherwise, I decide I’m keeping them—
Strayed far again from cool and carefully
Detached. Instead of a clear vase of good intent
I’ve gone and built an ecosystem and
crawled out of the river of me and I’m sitting on the bank
listening to the frogs on the lily pads of me,
watching that river otter happy at the far edge of me,
deep in my cattails and here comes some salmon, for dinner,
and a blue heron for awe and mighty luck.

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