Morning colors

The colors of the morning

Feed a hunger in our souls 

For what is good, and true, 

 And always waiting beneath the clouds.

Morning mystery

I never seem to tire 

Of the mystical effects 

Of an early morning sunrise: 

The way it turns the windows opaque 

While darkening the shadows, 

Adding an aura of enchantment 

To the ordinary…

On edge?

To sit and admire 

The constantly shifting majesty of clouds; 

To find yourself at the edge of the world, 

Watching for its end; 

To breathe, and breathe, and breathe again 

The sea salt air in hopes of clearing 

Your brain of all its fears and concerns 

Is a blessing not to be missed.

Present perfection

The perfection of that beak; 

So orange against the dark of the piling, 

Ignited as if from within by a trick of the light… 

These are the joys that presence can bring: 

To be wholly in the moment, wholly aware; 

To see what you may never see again 

Without regretting its loss when it passes.

Billionaire bird

The hawk levels his malevolent stare 

At me from his perch on the bird feeder 

As if he owns the joint, and woe 

To all who dare to extract a single seed 

From his domain…

Fencing in or fencing out?

The cherry tree’s in bloom again; 

The apple trees are leafing out, 

And there’s blossoms on the plum: oh, my! 

It won’t be long before the deer 

Are dancing on their hind legs, 

Snacking on our fruit. 

(That fence our neighbors built 

To keep them out, instead 

Seems to trap them in…)

Echoes of the Sun

Daffodils blooming at the edge of the cliff: 

Bright spots of yellow echo the sun.