In the midst of my doing:
Making, baking, purchasing…
Expectations, anxious moments-
Every morning, from my window
I watch the trees.
Sunny days bring gilded outlines;
silver, grey on cloudy days:
black on statement days of rain or snow.
Each day an adventure.
Trees in their stark winter glory
Stand tall- reaching for the sky
Rooted deeply in the soil.
Telling the stories of living on the earth.
Nature as artist lives in cycles-
Trees always in the midst of change.
My doing pace offers glances,
My routine cycles of intense weeks-
timetables, agendas, slices of connection.
invitations to the light and shadow display
are sent and received.I accept.
No rules or obligations intercede-
Trees quietly support, announce, connect with
those of us who admire, desire- select the mature lifestyle.
Perhaps I do not have to choose.
Rather: be with nature, walk among its beauties
for mutual support and conversation.
Stillness creates- allowing life to unfold
for all to see. We can be together.
Bright lights and composed lives may beckon…
Duty and desire both flow through my veins.
When I wander far from contemplation, trees-
the joy of simplicity.
I am a human being.
Thanks, Pat. I loved that one!
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