In the dim, dimly growing lighter, moving into morning moment,
A lone warble. Repeats. Repeats. Response.
Stillness.
Gray grows, gradually glowing into lighter gray.
An eruption of trills triggers a cascade of whistles and song.
In the damp, punctuating chip, chip, chipping,
Comes forth the mewling light.
5/4/2017
Even as another storm is brewing
The filtered sunlit morning thrills
With chirps and warbles and fluttering wings
Hidden ‘mongst the cedars’ branches
~Elz 3/12/17
Resting …. I
n Pieces.
Pieces pieces pieces on the ground
O n t h e g r o u n d
Shattered into half a million pieces
Shards of self of self >> > gone to pieces
Slivers and shards and sentimental parsing
Parsed parcels of personality
Shattered
Shattered
Shattered
Whole.
Now.
Here.
© Elz 2/17/2017
Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.
Desmond Tutu
“Be not afraid. We only start again an ancient journey long ago begun that but seems new. We have begun again upon a road we travelled on before and lost our way a little while. And now we try again.”
― Foundation for Inner Peace, A Course in Miracles
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