Serenade
the wetland chorus
a glorious counterpoint
to my daily grind
–
a Hooded Warbler
wakes me with
flights of fancy
the wetland chorus
a glorious counterpoint
to my daily grind
–
a Hooded Warbler
wakes me with
flights of fancy
no matter how far
the vanishing road takes me
I always return
–
nirvana awaits
yet I’m not
quite ready
twisted roots reach out
from the dappled forest floor
to steal my footing
–
mangroves
arise from the bayou
on tangled bones
black and blue and bruised
pinned to the ropes but fighting
for our very souls
–
a hard rain
drenches all
with no regard
long flowing tresses
cascade down from her shoulders
swirling at her feet
–
running
fast and free
into the future
the sun’s departure
as the day draws to a close
burns the ombré sky
–
fireflies
against the
dawn of night
after the bowl sings
so peacefully sits the monk
in meditation
–
calm water
reflective of
inner peace
snowy egrets stand
in the salt marsh, motionless
hunting careless fish
–
cattails
swaying in the
warm salt breeze
unable to sleep
in what used to be our home
Feeling your echo
–
labyrinthine walls
reflecting back
your hollow voice
eroding mountains
pushing back against the wind
resistant to change
–
warm breezes-
paisley dancing
in the wheat fields