Western glow fading--
decrescendo of songbirds--
stars surprise the eye.
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Peach blossoms unfold
new petals without hurry,
knowing the sun waits.
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My body is still;
pilots must fly in airplanes
and birds must use wings.
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Feathers up for sleep,
sparrows on wires chirp farewell
to the dimming day.
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Near tilted tombstones
arthritic black oak branches
finger the cold sky.
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Seen through train windows,
trees, like commuters, rush toward
where they've always been.
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Up through city trees
a steeple stabs the blue sky
with its metal cross.
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Windswept blades of grass
lightly brush the abbey wall;
monks seek light within.
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Opening lotus,
pure white in morning sunlight--
suddenly, a fly. |