The sea is sighing this morning.
Its murmur is the continuo that cradles the voices of my sangha-souls:
– brisk yap of startled dog
– honk of ibis, strutting on stilts
– warble of magpies’ morning choir practice
– chatter of pink galas, busy on newly-greened grass
– laughter of lorikeets taking breakfast in the scarlet bottlebrush
– beachside, the cackle of kookaburras hunting crabs…
Pink and white oleanders show off under the big gums and a huge sulphur-crested cockatoo paints a streak of white as it swoops across the park, suddenly silencing the sangha with its raucous shriek. They listen, poised; a second passes. Then they all strike up again.
On my shady balcony, tubs of color: impatiens, caladiums, violets, maidenhair ferns. And, oh delight! A shiny sleepy-eyed green frog has taken up residence in the water reservoir under the ferns!
I live alone and am often asked whether I feel lonely. Where, I wonder, on this magical and miraculous Earth could loneliness be found? Where can a split be found in the fabric of Life?
Previously posted to =this unlit light=