Unwinding the List

At home I live by the list.
I relish each check mark
at the end of the day, each
one representing a small
accomplishment.

• Groceries bought.

• Class planned.

• Dog walked.

• Called mom.

• Moved money to savings.

• Cleaned kitchen floor.

• Swam.

• Pulled weeds.

But here, there is no list.
And what would be on it?

• Birds chirp.

• Listen to blue necked tanager arias.

• Took the bus to town.

• Talked to the fruit seller.

• Did my Spanish vocab list.

No. There is no list.
I’m following the internal clock.
Listening for the next desire
to arise, the next need,
the next true response
to the day’s offerings.

Time expands here,
like yeast growing
from within. People chat,
look you in the eye, offer help,
feel generous.

I feel generous.
My cells are detoxing
from the constant
impulse to do something,
and check off the list.

January 19, 2025, Colombia