Sunday Morning In La Paz

Scattering angels sing in the plaza

Birds herald Sunday in song

A scattering of torn papers

From Saturday night’s bash

Drift throughout the park

A scattering of thought

While seated on a bench

In the morning shade.

Long shadows of churches and trees

Streak across my face.

Scattering angels glide a prayer

Across my face into my palms

In the Oneness that all is known

            By God

We seat ourselves along the beach

            To share being of the same fold

We wash and fold our clothes

            In the same Oneness

Awkwardly aware

            That all belongs to Him

            13 de abril, 1986, La Paz, BCS