Crossing Mossing

Moss, oh holy one

Grounded here on spine of bridge

The bridge of time that welcomes

Calms my breath in passage over

Into the unknown of afternoon

“Why am I here?” asked the moss

Or was it my ask really

The asking part of me that sometimes

Speaks louder than the resting part

Oh being of moss, oh holy one

You do NOT ask me why, only share with me

Share your forgivingly soft sense of self

Seated on the spine of this bridge

Sharing sweeps of the past

Yet being in this moment, with my grasp.

Moss oh holy one under my palms

You invite me to flip them over

Facing up to the sky like you do all day

Open to receive the unanswerable why

In the alertness of my waiting

In the awakeness of my Aliveness

In the awareness of my why—already

Living in my bridges of creativity

Oh moss! thank you for being with me

Crossing over this afternoon of vitality