Today we worked out at the Y right after breakfast, and, this time, it was almost a pleasure to become exhausted on the treadmill because of the beautiful view out the big windows of the Mystic River. AsI huffed and puffed, I listened to some spiritual words on my headphones and watched the sunlight shift and change colors on the river. 

Later on the morning, I did some work on my writing, organizing my poems to make it easier to submit for publication, and writing a new poem, a sonnet. Writing the sonnet reminded me how much pleasure I get from writing 

orderly, more traditional poems 

that have a definite form and pattern. Somehow, it's easier than writing a "free verse" poem, because the form seems to actually pull me along, and it's almost like I simply have to follow. Of course, writing is probably never really easy, but writing this sonnet this morning was a relaxing adventure for me. 

Here it is: 

GENEROSITY

(an old guy thinking . . .)

 To him, there seems to be a generous touch

in everything – in every movement of

the wind, in all his thoughts that flow with such

munificence, in clouds that float above

like kind, unselfish friends just passing by.

To him, bigheartedness is everywhere –

in stores, where smiles always beautify

the day;  in storms that work to fully share

the riches of their wind and rain and snow

with him; in every lavish spread of stars

across the sky; and in the daily overflow

of life he sees in all the passing cars.

He sees this lavishness in every here and now,

as though life always gives and takes a bow.