yes

the world is my monastery.
i will chant prayers under my breath
at all hours of the night or day.
with pure attention,
wash clothes and dishes,
feed my family.
i will feast around the table--
break bread, drink wine,
hear the sound of my own laughter.
i will welcome every stranger as the Christ,
offer sanctuary to the exile
even when the exile is myself.
i will sit in the silent cell of my heart
distilled down to one smoldering
flame of desire;
see burning bushes everywhere.

life is my canvas.
i will cast out my creativity
like seeds in a field
and wait in anticipation
for a harvest of joy.
i will take note of--and play with--
color, movement, texture,
incandescence;
swing my arms wide in
explanation and demonstration.
i will fall in love a thousand times
and a thousand times more;
be mesmerized, enchanted, seriously delighted
and not once
and not once
silence my voice or hide my heart.

when i press into my life,
i am like a tuning fork
vibrating with a
recurrent, resounding
yes.