I look out at the ocean breakers, dawn
hasn’t arrived yet. I could talk, something
would come day after day, creative
in this lonely, grand place.
I think about that but decide
I’ll go on chanting and hearing.
Later perhaps I can remember some of it.

I walk for as long as I can—less than an hour
before my ankle give in and
I start remembering
how I broke both heels years ago—
the doctor in the hospital looked at me
sympathetically, but as if I were crazy
and had jumped out a window.
Thank God I didn’t die then.
I thank You, Lord Acyuta,
for immense fortune, the matchless gifts
You give me every day.
You are giving them to all of us
if we can just wake up
to receive them.

(_Writing in Gratitude_)