Picture of a Windy Morning
How the wind plays
across the water
in changing patterns,
its skittish mood drawn
in ripples and rivulets
of sparkle under
a morning sun.
The small boats fidgety
at their moorings
as if roused by longings
of freedom,
cormorants riding
the unrest on bobbing prows
with outstretched wings
drying in the wind.
See how the day
is slowly being assembled,
putting itself together
with ferry boats
and dogs pulling on leads,
wired joggers, noisy children
in school uniforms
crowding at bus stops,
workers putting up signs.
How it all seems
to be following some hidden
script. And here I am, again,
walking the morning
looking for what I lost
in the long hours
of a sleepless night
when it doesn't
have a name,
being ushered by the wind
towards a somewhere
or nowhere at all,
helped along
my shuffling way
by a strange sense
of unhurried trust
that all will be OK.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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