My eyes search my room full of the anointed-ness
Of my abundance!
There are closets-full of staples and essentials we
Women convert into vitals--
Tools to build an easier day-in and day-out living.
Screws and bolts and nails of all types to hold things
In place like muscle and sinew…
My pupil leans on the beauty of trinkets of years
Musty upon my photographs but dust-able on these like
A bit of today too discernible—
Wealth is relative; I am possessor of Himalayas of
Knowledge and wisdom in a couple shelves—
At my voice’s fingertips I could materialize the
Images of long past to my view…
Hourly
I stand at a mountaintop I visit like the wind,
Sweeping nothing under my feet,
blowing nothing Above me but
possessing,
embracing,
And engulfing everything in oceanic gratitude…
Solomon held nothing but withered grass in his gold…
I am content with my violets.
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