How perspectives change.

Once I would have cradled with intimate wonder
the heartbeat’s capacity to flutter - indulged in thoughts
bestowing upon a beloved’s glance
the power to stir my inner wings. Tonight
a change of wind melodies my thoughts
though I stand under the same starry skies
at the same balcony of then - observing the same spaces
contemplating the dramatic change trees have undergone
since my winter absence.
I recall the dismal gasp on my return home.
Heard the cries of all the sunrises revolt at the new nakedness
of the view. Oh! where will the birds now nest.
Silent. In grief for the unforeseen
unpredictable violence.

After an April conversation with my Father
I learned that what may seem be a drastic cut
will eventually rejuvenate the trees. A comforting thought.
Now I watch while unperturbed they develop
new branches, new foliage and in awe
I ponder their invisible work - ruminate on their capacity of renewal
and that ancient familiar flutter stirs my heart’s beat
delivers a feeling of aliveness
refreshing as the May breeze that
kisses flowers and flirts with leaves.

Even the moon intervenes
voicing memories of April nights
when the keys in my hand entered the gate’s lock
and the ambrosial scents of orange blossoms
intoxicated the gardendreams undreamt
with a fragrance divine. There
the inner butterfly dances
to bursts of morning light – praises
all that is celestial - savours life
like the taste of dewdrops on rose petals







*m.a

05/16/2011

Posted on 05/16/2011
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