Where Is The Calm In Your Life?

(This poem emerged out of a workshop that I did with three colleagues today on Sustainability in Mentoring, one of the most important -- and sometimes challenging -- aspects of our jobs.)

The calm in life rests in the spaces in between clutter.
The calm is the sun lifting the horizon each morning,
taking my memory back to the tropics and Hawai'i,
where each morning began with a bellow,
a bellow summoning us awake,
signifying the calm
as illusion
because the day ahead would be full of noise.

The meow of the peacocks,
the flitter of the java sparrows
scrambling amid fallen petals of plumeria
to seek the dew-damp grass.
The jockeying for space in traffic,
for seats on TheBus,
for time for coffee, toast, a piece of fruit
before the frantic pace of the day took hold.

The bellow signified the soft touch and fragrance
of the plumeria's daily breath,
the withering of petals crushed
through the day by feet,
the flute playing softly at the beach
as the sun fell into the ocean
with its brief glittering green flash.