I look up and out
from this hobbled existence
through a window of miracles
and glimpse
a heron gliding by
like a grim and skinny matron
clutching her pocketbook
under a stiff wing,
or a shimmery rainbow,
gossamer valentine from the deity,
or the silent promise of daybreak
every day brand new upon the planet
or a patch of blue amidst gray storm clouds
or the stalwart enduring heartbeat
of a thousand year old cedar,
eagle peering down
from its topmost scrag
Every now and then a brand new miracle occurs:
a baby catching its first breath
utters its protesting cry
at leaving its gloried heaven
to endure this planet's pain
Each time we celebrate with joy
a new soul's journey
is beginning
once again
Every now and then I look up
beyond the burden and the blessings
at the vast and constant sky
and remember
what I'm doing here
and why
one from the archives, kids. Still Hobbling, after all these years :-)