this morning, the large bamboo in the attic
taught me a lesson, not for the first time:
it has taught for years, but I did not listen.
this morning, in a slightly pensive mood
(years whizzing by faster than ever, and not many left)
picking up the dried leaves from the carpet
suddenly remembered „only this“,
stopped trying to get the job done
and started doing it without going away, and of course
„only this“ then becomes obvious,
infinitely meaningful
an act of love
