• Ross McKeachie

Only This


When I finally tamed my anger,

my hard-edged shield

which kept me tough

in a way that I could never be touched

by the world or other people -

praise or blame -

there it was,

my secret master:


Grief.


I collapsed,

cried for days.

Or was it years?

Still I cry.

And, in the very heart of this sorrow,

completely broken and empty,


I stopped.

All there was was silence,

peace,

me.

All there was was silence,

peace,

me.

Right in the centre of it all,

in the centre of me,

a bright glowing spark

from the Fire of Beauty and Gratitude.

I learn now, every day,

how to nurture that spark -

with the bellows of my breath

and protection of my choices;

with the fuel of my words

and my actions

in the hearth of my attention -

flames of beauty and gratitude

burn away, popping and cracking,

the tangled undergrowth of dullness and restlessness.

Only the heat and the light.

Only the love for this life.

Only the heat and the light.

Only the love for this life.

Only this.