May I be free from a judging mind and the fancy of birds;
and welcome the moment uncluttered with the sound of loose change.
May those that surround me know me as I know myself.
May I see through the haze of stale smoke and regurgitated dream.
and experience the embrace of lovers and the tears of widows.
May the dance welcome me with open arms and flailing limbs.
May I see through the haze of stale smoke and regurgitated dream. May I be free of harm, the sting of hornets and the plots of wolves;
and accept the barroom floor as it rises to greet me.
May I experience arms helping me to uncertain feet.
May I see through the haze of stale smoke and regurgitated dream. May I enjoy life without the crack of a drivers’s whip;
and see the trees as the carriage rushes by over rutted roads.
May I weather the cry of the newly-born; the gasp of the newly-departed.
May I see through the haze of stale smoke and regurgitated dream…
…look upon blue skies, prairie fire and scrub oak and see from a distance
that the man waving is indeed welcoming me
and not simply drunk.
Inspired by The Four Immeasurables by Ken McLeod