Do You Live Alone? Poem by Alla Bozarth

Impossible!
Think of it!
Inside the walls
and joints of my house
are trillions of creatures,
some so small the ant and mouse
and solitary bee seem giants —
not to mention those who cuddle
close for warmth and crumbs
outside — thousands of species
of birds and insects,
rabbits, moles, creepy-crawlers
of all sorts, the neighbors’
cats and dogs and cows and geese
and sheep and horses.

Then inside are
the heavenly hosts
who welcome me to my table,
and earth angels in food and flower,
so open to intimacy and even union
with eye, nose, hand, lips,
organs, words, dreams and poems.

Besides these, all
human colleagues
represented by each object:
the artists, laborers, crafters,
ancestors and friends behind
the presence of every beautiful
or useful or meaningful object
here.

And the forest of trees
that live on as furniture,
picture frames, and the very
structure that is home.

I share my tree house
with millions of unmet mates
gratefully.

Mealtime meditation
brings in even more, transient
guests — those myriad beings
who have been part of my food’s
journey here.

I neither live alone nor eat alone.
Sometimes I need to step outside
to taste a moment of relative
solitude, and even then
it’s an illusion: the stars are
as with me and alive
as the sleeping bugs in the ground
beneath my feet.

I can stretch in any direction
and bless it, knowing a companion
is there within touch.
And because I know that every bush
is a burning bush,
I ask the roses not to burn my lips
when I bend to kiss them.

This poem is from the books, Moving to the Edge of the World
and The Book of Bliss by Alla Renée Bozarth, iUniverse 2000,
and This is My Body: Prayers for Earth, Prayers from the Heart
by Alla Renée Bozarth, iUniverse 2004. All Rights Reserved.