I realized that I lost peace when I was watering the garden. Maybe if I say what it looks like someone can help find it.

::::::::

But it's not just the world that has lost peace.
I lost my peace.
I used to have it.
I used to cook meals with it,
I used to season my food with it.
It was with me when I mowed the lawn.

My peace,
my vision.
I even had it after Orlando . . .

I was watering the garden
and I looked up
at the clouds passing over the field,
and that was when I realized that peace was missing.

Have you seen it?
It was right here only yesterday?

You ask, "What did it look like?"

Well, like a sunrise,
like a bird singing in a tree,
like a wetland beside the interstate.
It looked like a gun with a flower sticking out of it.
It looked like a catchy bumper sticker,
like a sunset,
like a red and pink Hawaiian guitar
with islands stenciled on it
and a hula dancer.

It made me happy at the end of a day
no matter what the day was like.
It looked like a book of Sappho's poetry
by a reading lamp
switched on.

It looked like a fish jumping clear of a stream.

It looked like a ray of hope.
Like a sleeping cat.
It looked like my grandfather's sad face
when he was teaching me how to throw and catch a baseball.

I was watering the garden at dusk
and I looked up
at the clouds passing over the field
and one of them looked like a pink guitar.
I saw how beautiful everything was
and that was when I realized that peace was missing.
It was when I was paying attention to all the reasons to panic,
when nature was showing me every reason to hope;
I panicked.

I lost it.

If anyone finds it
let me know.
I'll be home
or you can leave a message.

(Article changed on July 30, 2016 at 07:27)

(Article changed on July 30, 2016 at 14:20)

Authors Website: https://garylindorff.wordpress.com

Authors Bio:

Gary Lindorff is a poet, writer, blogger and author of five nonfiction books, three collections of poetry, "Children to the Mountain", "The Last recurrent Dream" (Two Plum Press), "Conversations with Poetry (coauthored with Tom Cowan), and a memoir, "Finding Myself in Time: Facing the Music". Lindorff calls himself an activist poet, channeling his activism through poetic voice. He also writes with other voices in other poetic styles: ecstatic, experimental and performance and a new genre, sand-blasted poems where he randomly picks sentence fragments from books drawn from his library, lists them, divides them into stanzas and looks for patterns. Sand-blasted poems are meant to be performed aloud with musical accompaniment.


He is a practicing dream worker(with a strong, Jungian background) and a shamanic practitioner. His shamanic work is continually deepening his partnership with the land. This work can assume many forms, solo and communal, among them: prayer, vision questing, ritual sweating, and sharing stories by the fire. He is a born-pacifist and attempts to walk the path of non-violence believing that no war is necessary or inevitable.