Meditation

today I give thanks
that I am butter-fingered--

that I don’t need to
what I cannot do--

hold anything
inside forever, or find

the answer-- what’s
hoarded in the heart’s

fist threatens
to destroy -- even truth,

even love and friends--
so I give thanks for a heart

whose grip’s so weak--
for a world so slippery--

that I am porous
with a mind of mesh,

not marble--and that ends,
not means, evade me--

that my essence is
to breathe, and not

despite my readiness
of hand, to grasp

what’s only passing,
or to understand--

2017