We can’t control where the mind goes
Whether it lights the dry leaves on fire
Or sits peaceful by a still lake
Whether it returns us the past
the fragrance of fried onions and chicken fast crisping in the pan, or
The bench, our bench, under the streetlamp, or
What I should have said to you that day
I invited my mind away from its troubles
to a lighthouse to behold magic things
Not the pain of this world—the ruins of unsolved problems
Not the fear of prisons yet to be built, or wars yet to be waged
But to the calm center of now
The goldfish and the hummingbird are happy enough
Each unimpeded by the heart’s curiosity
A Life of Wonder 
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