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We are so self-centred.

We bring every experience,

all that happens,

back to us, 

me, 

I.

My creations,

my world,

my people,

my job,

my status.

Somehow,

in every conversation

we end up at 

Me.

 

We stroll

in the vegetable patch,

or in the veld,

exclaiming:

“Look, Chinese lanterns!”

 

Things

can be so different

if we look at

the floating softness

of Oriental lights,

whispering under

our breaths:

“Look, gooseberries

and flower-of-an-hour

shaking their moorings!”

 

We live

in a more-than-human

world.

George