[Inspired by Mary Oliver’s The Buddha’s Last Instruction]

I could paint my life
should I choose
In hues of attempted value
anxious blue hues
Of trying to be a worthy daughter
worried gold hues
Of trying to be a worthy Catholic
psychedelic hues
Of trying to be a worthy protester
tender green hues
Of trying to be a worthy mother
confused gray hues
Of trying to be a worthy wife
blaring red hues
Of trying to be a worthy professional
swallowing black hues
Of trying. Trying. Trying
To be
Divorced
Remarried
Widowed
Alone, alone, alone
again, naturally

The surprising silver hues
Of late true love, forever certainty
That admits no try

(Star Wars pause:
Laughing as I remember Yoda’s injunction:
“Do or do not, there is no try”)

Seventy-five years
to know
  - sometimes -
there exists
    me
    eternal just me
Not ego’s
too persistent 
need to be
Something Of Explicable Value

And then, 
in pure white radiance 
I know myself 
To Be
something of inexplicable value