Peaceful Moment

Geese, mallards, widgeon
Floating quietly today
And all together
In gentle peace
Under winter sun
On a rounded river
Between cold nights

Everything moves
Through stillness
Slowly, softly, effortlessly
Behind fragile passageways
That exclude thought
But still invite us in
To rest by the fire

There is more than enough emptiness
To hold all of the silence
And all of the stillness
That the birds float in
That the fire burns from
That our beings are rooted in
Despite false walls
That can limit our views

Let my eyes be
Let my awareness live
On the tallest branches
Of what I have become
That I may reach beyond
The walls I watched being built
With hollow bricks of time
And touch the heart of others

Raindrops and Worlds

Raindrops on the window
Effortlessly turn and hold the world
Upside down – just for fun
Each raindrop plays with the same world
So I wonder how many there are
No really, how many are there?
Raindrops and worlds
Everything on this planet is limited
And infinite at the same time
Nothing is supposed to leave
Yet light is energy
It enters from the sun
And never seems to leave
What about our souls?
What about our spirits?
Other things we can’t see -
Do they leave? Do they stay?
Does it matter?

Your Embrace

A long time
I have waited
For adoption to take place
When all I really wanted
Was a smile and an embrace
To hold a settled mind
And know that everything is good
It is going to work out fine
Just the way it always should

I am happy
With the friends
You have
They love you
Very much
As I am happy
With the friends
I've found
Who help
Me find
My ground

I will welcome
All your friends
To you
Because
In knowing that
We can celebrate
Our time together
While our ticket
Numbers match


I don’t need
To be adopted
I just need
To be embraced
As we hold
Each precious
Moment with our
Heartbeats
As they race

Earlier Rain

Raindrops fell
On engineered surfaces
With gravity and chemistry
They joined together and flowed
Only where they were allowed
Leaving crooked black lines
Across dry shadows
Of departed cars
Searching for a curb
I can’t tell by looking
At the grass or the river or the trees
If it ever rained at all
So it seems
Rain can write its name
Across man made things
Apart from that
It only really exists
When you catch it
In its simple act of falling
From the belly of a black cloud
Or clearly drumming its name out
On whatever it finds

Talons

 

photograph by: Norbert Rosing

On some days
It seems easier
To soar free -
To lift your feet
And scramble for balance
Than it is to stand
In the middle
Of a wind
That chases eagles
From high perches
Near the top
Of ancient trees
High places that offer
Clear sight and some safety
From crows and gulls
That pester them forever
No other birds are in the air today
Just the eagles
Talons tired from holding
Tight to favorite branches