Thursday, February 25, 2016

This One Unrepeatable Morning



I look hard
at this once-only,
never to be repeated morning:
clouds wisping mistily over the Beauforts,
fog  dreamily swirling among the trees
and across the pasture,
(spirits, carrying their secrets into the forest.)
I can almost - or am I dreaming? -
hear wolfsong faintly calling from the mountains,
my black wolf, whose spirit roams their slopes.
He misses me.

For solace, I look into the deep, kind eyes,
as old as Soul itself,
of a thirty year old horse,
her nose whuffing a soft greeting 
this grey morning,
when everything is on its way
to spring.



The juncos and the jays are at the feeder
and lately, I've been hearing an eagle's cry
from across the road.
She must have a nest near,
but she remains elusive.
One day she will reveal herself,
when I am worthy,
and maybe she will drop one feather 
down to me.

I breathe in the ground, stirring to life again,
in endless cycle,
smile to encourage the daffodils, 
inching their way ever closer to blossoming.
This one moment, blessed, peaceful,
lifted up,
a moment of life traded, stored,
acknowledged, by a heart old enough
to recognize its blessings.


2 comments:

  1. evocative, well-drawn, and keenly observed ~

    ReplyDelete
  2. There is such optimism here. We have to enjoy each moment...blessed, peaceful, lifted up...each in its own way!

    ReplyDelete

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