Friday, July 21, 2017

Mind’s eye

Green blue grey
In incomplete disarray
From the bottom straight up
To the bird flying by instinct

When darker clouds swim by
Sporadically overhead
They cool down the cracking skin
& dim the sunlight
From its everyday wander

Blown bubbles prism air
The little boy follows carelessly
Tracing the wind’s path

When she thinks of Sylvia Plath
A carbon monoxide victim asphyxiated
With head in the oven & children sleeping
What makes a good mother?

Uninvited raindrops suddenly splash
these tainted letters
That shake the page of a poet’s garden
A disdain to a warm summer day

But a shelter under the pine tree branches
Makes water an inspiration
As it cleans out everyday noise
till breathing becomes our poise

Drip drop drip drop
Time to pause

Drip drop…                                                 


Zen 19-6-2017

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