Today at the Kitchen Sink
The morning arrives in quiet.
Looking out the window at the white lilac,
fragrant with sublime incense,
and seeing the bird children
flying in for their breakfast at the feeder,
I feel the lightness of this thought:
What if, what if compassion
means turning within before all else.
What if the soothing nectar of silence
can gently permeate my being
if I keep choosing myself, going within?
This means,
before I think about my list, or shoulds,
I check in and sail free,
unburdened by a thousand social rules.
In this moment I pause and allow
myself
to open to more depth.
Turning and listening brings peace
as gentle as a zephyr,
as powerful as a waterfall.
As this planet spins through space,
I find my place
right here at the kitchen sink.
JoRene Byers keeps company with the mountains nearby and all the red-tailed hawks, mourning doves, quail, and jackrabbits that visit daily. She lives in the beautiful High Desert, the ancestral land of the Numu (Paiute), Tana’ma (Warm Springs), and Wasq’u (Wasco) people.
Her poems have been translated into Chinese for Poetry Hall, appeared in the Hoffman Center’s Wonder Garden and Community Writes, the Central Oregon Writers Guild Literary Anthologies, and 50 Give or Take. She’s received scholarships from La Romita School of Art in Italy, and Turas d’Anam “Journey of the Soul” in Ireland.
