J. Zimmerman

The Tao of Joan at the Big Sur

Worship the little gods parading across your path, the quail chicks between their mama and papa, and the bunnies browsing the low grasses. Praise the tiny blue butterflies and your liberation of one writhing in a spider web even though the spider might be hungry and even though you praise the spider too. Be grateful to the flies that bite your arm, their sudden injections of the OW of the NOW bringing you back to the bulkier gods: the sun on your face, the wind, the cloud-breathing sea. Give thanks to the Hermitage bell tolling for Lauds, and be thankful for the compassionate faithful who are unperturbed by pagans.

the story of my life
in the fog at dusk
in the fog at dawn