Joy

While I was harvesting violets

For my salad,

I noticed my mind.

As usual, my mind was busy.

Thinking, planning, remembering.

Things it does very well.

And has done ever since I started noticing

My mind in meditation.

Picking violets,

And putting them in my basket,

Joy came to me.

Riding through my thoughts

And stopping them.

The sun warmed our shady spot

Under the tree,

As I gathered violets.

And joy filled me

Like a precious memory.

"No need to plan,"

Joy declared.

"Joy with us," the violets invited.

"Enjoy," the tree agreed.

"We are better medicine when you inhabit joy," they sang.

Really?

The plants want my joy?

They nourish me better if I gather from joy?

They heal deeper and more subtly when touched by a joyous being?

Noticing my doubt

They gave me an image:

Glittering joy sparkling and spiraling.

Gleeful pulses of pleasure.

Ecstatic energy.

I could feel it in my fingertips

Fizzing and fun.

My bare toes tingled with joy.

"Yes. Come to us with delight.

And we will meet you with radiance."

I fancied I could feel my mitochondria giving an ebullient wiggle.

Laughter gurgling in my cells.

Bliss circulating in my fluids.

And I laughed

Out loud.

Relieved.

Restored.

Remembering.

I am a most precious child of Mother Earth.

She offers me her contentment.

She supports me in my grief.

And she sings out her joy,

Trusting I will hum along.

Humming, I pick violets in beauty.

It is always in beauty.

Joyful beauty.

Humming, I breathe in a giveaway dance.

The joy of the plants in every breath.

I am one with the joyous heartbeat of the earth.

The joy of the earth rises in me.

Everywhere, green blessings surround me.

Sounding joy.

Gratitude

Always

Joy