Washing My Wine Glass

I watch water droplets fall through the air
and I am speechless — I couldn’t be a poet,
who could describe such a simple thing as
falling water, water falling through the air,
crystal drops forming into tiny falling things,
wetness that dreams itself into discreet drops,
water sliding down the smooth sides of glasses,
wine glasses washed clean and held upside-down
to drip-dry, retaining the dripping remnants of water
in their glassiness, a clear liquidity which flows down
the arching glassine transparency of its own perfect form,
forming itself into exquisite drops of itself, moving freely
through a miraculous atmosphere of keen molecular airiness
with all of the natural grace of water droplets falling, falling
water slowly dripping itself into the pure open spaciousness
of primordial whateverness with the truly glad graciousness
of just one drop at a time, a relative timelessness embodied
in the simple act of falling through the boundless empty
space between this and that, the destiny of water drops
sliding down the glass and into the waiting sink,
a white welcoming sink, and then, and then?

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About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have several other sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: http://www.pbase.com/1heart Essays on the Conscious Process: http://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/ Poetry and Prosetry: https://feelingtoinfinity.wordpress.com/ Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: https://westernmystics.wordpress.com/ https://freetransliterations.wordpress.com/ Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: https://spiritguidesparrow.wordpress.com/ Thank You!
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