The blank page is asking you, "And how are you today?"
Poetry

 

Morning walk

I love the feel of grass, turgent under my feet

And the sound of birds tweeting over my head

I love the blinding Sun squinting my eyes

And the warmth of its rays melting my skin.

 

The cool of the shade under towering branches

Sends a fresh breeze enveloping my body

The promise patent of new waves to come

‘midst  the tingling light that paints bushes silver

 

The being in the moment with sinew and heart

The infinitesimal second of pure presence and joy

Marvel after marvel reveals unto the eye.

To merge, to linger, to flutter and to die.

 

Silvia Munton

December 2014

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