Tender breaks the gentle dawn
as pink steals through the purple.
Crickets chirp and bullfrogs croak
while loons emit their warble.
Shafts of light illumine leaves —
paths of life I ponder —
sky is choreographed by clouds
from bliss, to peace, to somber.
Its prancing hooves, barely heard,
the curious fawn draws near.
Our eyes connect — mystically,
Spooked, it turns and scampers on —
nature’s cast, each plays it’s part.
Air is fresh with scent of pine.
Joy, overwhelms my heart.
A feather, from a blue jay,
snagged on sprig so feeble.
Was it loosened in its flight,
or ripped, by plunging eagle?
Nature cyclically evolves,
fall is prey to winter.
Life is born and then it dies —
there isn’t any victor.
From each death there sprouts new life;
moldering logs, maternal.
Passings, cause our hearts to break,
while new life springs eternal.
I’ll return — another month,
some other me — to this shrine,
imperfect in perfection,
befitting God’s design.
Image by Dan Marker-Moore, aka DANOR.ST
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Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People