To be a cloud-watcher

Sometimes I think I want to be like a sage,

a cloud-watcher,

a dog sitting by the bay—

a thing content to not partake;

Like a lazy fisherman untroubled by the day

a lizard bathing in the world’s ways

simple enough,

astute enough, 

to never watch,

but, only see;

to just be 

but, never really live.



Who sleeps there?

you- despite you, me and the world?

When you’re rooted in nothing,

dipped in starry skies,

burning in the light of a never-mind-number of suns,

who are you child?  

Photo by Davis Ayer

Photo by Davis Ayer