The Artwork: Abundance
The Poem: One Way to Comprehend Abundance
I used to think
abundance
was a cornucopian well
pouring out good times
and seven basketfuls of bread.
I am learning
it is more like
the color of the sky before midnight –
a shapeshifting cobalt,
the big dipper turned sideways,
a mess of stars dripping light into
water moving over water.
Real abundance
is a palm open
to the sky, catching rain,
watching it drip
off the fingertips –
a transition into vacant space
that still vibrates
with what we once held,
like an overworked field finally lying fallow
chamomile standing sentinel
over tired dirt;
a sensing
that where there appears to be less
is where we find
more than what we need.