Comforting a Newborn Thing
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colored craving things arrive
reaching tender to assault
eyes unused in wintered
hollow months
grey and white and plain
becoming sudden kaleidoscopes
bleeding into landscapes,
drowning pain
with cacophonies of endless greetings,
as nature emerges
with energies and hunger.
awakening to spring
and living now again
along a garden wall
in shades of many trees
where grasses lean
to show the shallows
left by bended knees,
winter mourns her missing
finds the solace spring allows.
each year, the trees and grasses
form a springtime here.
shadows burst to life
inserting wisdom to our trowels,
flagstones, breadcrumbs,
streaks of dappled sun through arbor boughs.
clouds of every nation’s hue
the garden wall allows.
beneath the trees along a wall,
where mother earth colludes with all
to waken us again to waiting lives.
where we will walk again
into the morning light,
allowing the night
to pass over us.
we follow our footsteps west,
facing the sun, feeling its radiance upon us
as the kiss of day meets us there.
each morning, the border of a new frontier.
where things are quiet, unborn of fear.
finishings are left, beginnings yet to be.
new is all there is to see.
eyes searching skies here,
ears detecting clues.
hearts wait here
for the birth of their comfort.
upon a log
with gnarled burls
of hardened skin
we find a resting bench,
with green moss tablecloths
grown from the earth
by a slow-moving wisdom,
providing reflection,
this tree laid down its life centuries ago
knowing one day we would come
to sit upon its broad back
and learn that faith
is sharing life
through patience and sacrifice.
nearby, the ocean waves
create a spray that towers over all.
providing raindrops
sent to linger on the garden wall.
dew drops form on maple leaves;
however small.
although each soul is born to
a different medium,
spring shall bend itself to form a call
of new beginnings
giving birth to endings
that will one day
beckon every drop to find its fall.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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