a meditation

the wishes we make

in the form of

the winds we blow on

our birthday cakes

the tears that fall on 

our pillow case

the ink we unload on 

our diaries

i stored them all 

in the tiny wrinkles on the backs

of my hands and

after a few years without sight of the promise land

they learned to dance in the curtains

call shots from the sidelines

make music in the margins

no need to exhaust with thoughts of 

what i could have been by now

or where i could have been by now

all i have is now

all i have is now

i repeat it like a wish that

comes true as it leaves my lips

needs no pension

needs no advance

needs no mention of future plans

all i have is now

and to be here, now, is

after all,

all i want.