on winter days
when the air is crisp
and the light is of such
a quality that it bleeds
into my cells
causing a strange photosynthesis
of excitement and pleasure
I feel complete.
it is as if the world
has administered me
an emotional salve
effused me with the charge of creation
proving to me
that drugs, adrenaline inducing stunts, provocative stimuli
are unnecessary.
so I think
of simple things like
walking the Berkeley streets
with my brother at my side
not my blood brother
but my kin
nevertheless,
or when the wind comes off the Bay
like a spirit that has ran me through
not intending to kill but to awaken,
or hearing my girl hum the swaying melody
of a mariachi love song
an evocation of spirit
or writing a poem
when all the lines fall in place
a flowing trajectory of words
that can’t be broken
and I know
these are the things I love.