Hot Potato on the Couch

When I sit here

and pat the universe

in my belly

 

and catch myself wanting

to be the queen bee

 

I pay homage

to all the other worker bees

like me,

 

the wisdom-tenders

in their many seats,

galaxies of wonder

unnoticed and connected.

 

This couch potato

in such a small sphere

does not need Oprah

for proclaiming wonder,

does not need proclamations

to feel the heat,

to know that life is here,

to feel the way we are cooking

even as it looks like nothing moves.

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