thanks

 

In gratitude we open arms to life,

embracing in the moment what may come,

that first awakened creep of smiling, softened dawn,

the stretch of limbs releasing  into grace,

awareness as we’re drawn into new mind and vision;

a step on solid ground which sends us forth.

 

Droop of fading flower in beauteous death,

abandoned in surrendered, pink, pure petalled limbs,

velvet sighs in fall upon dark polished, unforgiving wood;

a faint perfume of soul seduced by night;

as watered morning showers in crystal drops, begins

the cleansing drench of dreams not understood.

 

Dance of dress in waltz to welcome day,

as costume calls persona to present once more,

and sole is shod in that which will protect, preserve,

smooth of tangled soul and hair  arrayed;

as nature’s choir in syrup song beats wings reborn,

and small, delighted birds once more are heard.

 

Sip of sugared tea and crisp of toast,

as golden marmalade  does swim in shining sea,

redolent of aromatic citrus and the burn of summer sun,

light in layered rays on freshened breath of skin;

the smoke and sultry presence of brewed leaves,

as memory and moment rejoice, in what’s begun.

 

Wash of iridescent sky-blown searing blue,

as trees in dappled spread play games with light,

and jasmine creeps in tease of slow, addictive luscious clouds,

and crush of gravel sings  of dusty path;

floral race of colour holds the edge of  folding flight,

in blossoming, which joy in thanks, does so devour.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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