Poem 38 – Bowl

Bowl

Did you know
a bowl has
a body has
a waist a
foot and a
rim? Also a
bottom, of course.

Have you ever
been bowled over?
Bowling? Have you 
ever been bowled
over whilst bowling?

The act of 
rolling is to 
bowl. A bowl 
is a basin 
a holder a 
shape with an 
open top a 
large structure for 
sport or entertainment 
or both – something 
super. Did you

know the contents
of a bowl 
are naturally concentrated 
in its centre 
by the force 
of gravity? I 

wonder if as 
we witness one 
another, if we 
can practice holding 
our contents hot 
cold chopped pounded 
whisked warm different 
like bowls – naturally
receiving the fullness
of our beings
in kind concentration
a hate free
phenomenon a humble
hurling of love
a touching down
of other into
all?

---

I will always marvel at our ability to join peacefully by the thousands…millions to witness sports and entertainment. Whether in a seat in a giant stadium or on the sofa at home with the dogs, we can stop everything else for hours just to watch. To cheer. To eat. To pray. To hope. To doubt. To dance. To hold our breaths while the ball spirals through the air we all intake naturally a trillion times a day. It’s pretty super, don’t you think? Even how on Christmas Eve a truce can be called during a war. In that case, every day should be Christmas. In this case, every weekend, a super bowl. Or…I don’t know. I just know that what we’re capable of collectively is extraordinary. We can sit in. We can march forward. We can hold hands. We can push our breath into each other’s mouths and bring each other back.to.life. It’s enough to make a poet weep. To carve a bowl of hope into her chest.