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Meadow Momentaries
Summer breeze, bones at ease.
Schedule clear, mind clear.
Belly full, tea at hand.
Love and cat both sitting near.
Hawks aloft, quietly.
Bats asleep, naturally.
The half remaining moon climbing
up to the Eastern horizon.
Cedars busy not rotting, cattails busy
decorating, ever so briefly, the not-there air.
The wind shifts...mint and meadow flower.
The winds shift...now the horse manure.
The Dào speaks and whispers,
roars and mumbles.
Her lessons ceaselessly
thread through Named and Noticed;
silk offering pearls.
Weaving warp through weft,
her unbounded Echolessons
knit the Fabric of Life to the
web of Space, of Time.
The wind shifts...playground sounds.
The winds shifts...I’m not now around.
Copyright ©
Stephe Watson
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