Sept jours de gratitude # 4

 

 

What I Know Of This Life

But what of our lives


Sunlight warms the crinkly bark,
Birds touched by morning sun
Sing cantatas at daybreak.
The clouds at this hour
Rest motionless,
While even the waves
Pounding the shore
Fail to stir the stillness,
Which can be carved with a blade.

 

What I love in this life
Are the simple things.
The curved reach of the sun,
Leaves fallen to earth
Left behind by the passing moon
And feathers found on a path
Gifts from the secret lives of birds.

What I know of this life is little,
What I sense is great
Too vast too open
For any words to wrap them in.
Yet we try anyway
Holding them in pockets of thought
Morsels to ponder and muse.
Yet how rarely they touch
The vibrancy of our senses,
Nor coming close
To the flare of a cardinals wing,
Or the silent pause of dawn.

Mark Coleman - http://www.awakeinthewild.com