On Being

To get up every day with a purpose
is a joy. To go out in the world,
see clearly, be where you are.

A sage from long ago said:
“when hungry I eat. When tired
I sleep.” And, I write to see
where it goes, to go where it leads.

What is there to see?
What do I see that is not there?

What speaks as I write
of what was not there only
a moment ago?

The thought thinks the speaker.
It wafts out to hold its place
where the echoes of choices not made
play their harmony in the background.

We are a chorus of song.
We are all waiting to learn our part
in the great orchestra of being.

The conductor waits for your attention.

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

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