It is enough
that the breeze
is cool
and the mockingbird sings
its thirteen songs.
It is enough,
though Ted is dying
and Barbara
as well as Nancy died suddenly,
that even so
I feel their love.
Not enough is the angry demand
That becomes too much
Like the avalanche,
the overdose.
Even overjoyed lands hard
on the rocks of reality.
Enough pulls us back
From the the collapsing cliffs of our desires.
It is enough
that I walk a mile or two
with trees my kin,
not merely branches and bones
but expressions of earth’s love
our roots and veins intertwined.
We want more
as if the balance
created by earth and ocean,
that knows what should flourish or fade
and times the seasons like a clock
Is not enough.
Oh, if only we knew,
If we could see
we are more,
more
than enough.