Through Awakened Eyes

Let me tell you something about happiness,
about wonder: those small moments
that take your breath away, scattered
so generously throughout the day:

cherry trees full of white blossoms,
and alive with tiny hummingbirds

planting seeds, and the excitement,
one morning, of finding little green seedlings
popping up on the windowsill - a miracle
every time, that food and flowers
can come from tiny seeds
poked into earth with hope and faith.

Happiness is seeing nature's beauty
all around, through awakened eyes.
You may not be thinking about anything,
just watching a cloud perch itself
on top of the rounded hills
across the harbour; your heart swells
to overflowing at the beauty:
happy, happy, happy
and
grateful, grateful, grateful.

It is kinship with the world, one being
among all the other beings.
It lives in the song of the waves,
an eagle's cry, the sight of a heron
perched on the topmost branch
of an old growth cedar,
and you wonder how the branch
holds her weight and how
her feet find purchase.

It happens when a hummingbird flies
through an open door, into your house.
You cup its featherweight lightness
in your hands, walk outside,
and set her free. Her darting flight
away from you is just how happiness is:
you don't want to hold it too tightly;
you know it needs its freedom
to come and go. Cupped hands,
only for a moment, and then release.

You know it will always
come back.

for Sumana's prompt at What's Going On: When Nature Takes Your Breath Away. It does that for me so many times a day. I am gifted by Mother Earth's astonishing beauty. It is my joy and my solace. And my heartbreak, that humans wage their insane wars on her landscape.