A WINTER POEM

Love etches itself indelibly

Upon my being

Never fading

Only transforming

Mixing one moment

With the next

Creating color, shape

Sound, motion

A sensory chorus of

Past, present, future

Dreams forming now

As we near each

Moment to complete

Wholeness

I sigh, I turn in bed

My gaze finds a focus

A fix—the movement

Of the tree’s branches

Outside my window

Quivering one moment

In stillness the very next

Nodding at me in a reminding way

That this tree, too, has shaken fiercely

In the winds that have

Come 

Reassuring me that

The wild winds do blow

On to other places

And eventually dissipate

Remarkably the residual

Damage heals itself

A transformational reality

Of nature

The tree speaks to me now in utter truth:

“So my too legged friend

You too will quiver,

You will also settle in peace and

You will quake.

It’s just life.

What we like to call

The cycle of things,

Be still when you can and drop deeply,

Consciously, deliberately

Your roots so when

You are put to the test and

Life’s gust whips around you in frenzy, you will

Remain intact,

Steadfast, in the moment

And firmly rooted

To the Mother of All."

 

 

 

(Written January 17, 2005 on a cold and blustery winter morning as the wind blew outside my bedroom window)