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