The Persistent Ones live up to their titles,
floating in and out of my awareness,
sometimes bursting in, to receive my wishes,
to send me their own.
Then the chickadees catch my attention,
their conversations making smiles
in the center of my heart.
I see the faces and forms of them—
the ones who arrive as recurring dreams.
I hear their voices, feel the essence
that makes each unique,. watch their moods
wrap around them, imagine their thoughts.
Listening to an overview of current world events,
I am convinced anew that we have slid into hell
and are hurtling ever faster toward its core.
But the ladder-back woodpecker comes
to point my eyes to blue openings in the clouds.
For a moment I am present again, here,
where brown leaves cover the hill and wee birds
play in the bare branches of the lilac tree.
I turn inside to see the central Persistent One
radiating loving, indescribable power. All is well.
It doesn’t matter that I know nothing,
that all this is less than a speck in the whole.
I know the only thing I need to know. Yes.
All is well.