Rosy blessings

Ripe and crimson as a cherry or a rose hip, 

The smoke-reddened sun climbs above my fig tree, 

Beaming as it blesses and ripens the fruit. 

How can we keep our center 

When all about us are losing theirs? 

Perhaps by staying focused 

 On what goodness we might find 

And what kindness and blessings we might share...