Friday, December 21, 2007


He took weekly lessons in living.

One week he worked on waiting,

another week on thinking

only flexible thoughts,

another week on sending worries away

like he sends newspapers for recycling.

He said he was a student

in the university of the universe.

Sometimes the stars

spoke to him like professors,

and sometimes a squeak in his chair

said more than the biggest books.

Bring me your wisdom, he said

to the cinnamon he spread on his toast.

Tell me the truth,

he said to the peacefulness

in his apartment.

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