When the wind is calm
And the trees unbowed,
We find leaves scattered on the floor
And a million hopes for summer gone
The tree's weep, and so do we.
Hides all with a thick blanket of snow.
We freeze, the comfort paralyses.
The tree's start to bud
And our heart's lift.
Where the world ends and we begin is a curious thing,
We feel the world through our bones , drape ourselves in it's beauty, clothe ourselves in its majesty.
Sometimes we sense the misery of our friends seeping into feet and chilling our heart
We find ourselves too frozen to answer, powerless to act and cry teas of ice
Sometimes the heat of their happiness burns our skin, charring our embrace, searing our lips just as we want to reach out and congratulate them.
How much more soothing is a woodland walk, tree's lit by dappled sunlight and the dancing of birdsong in our ear drums. How much safer to feel the drumming of our feet on tarmac in the deepest part of our belly, how much wider is the world when we encompass it.
The white branches in our foreheads grow tall and strong, they cover our gaze and we peak out through them.We curl up in their embrace, the twisting of the limbs as they reach out through our senses gives us incredible beauty, incredible sadness, incredible joy.
Joy in small things
Minute, tiny, twinkles of thought.
In structure and lines
In conversations bigger than the world
In too many things to think at once
In beauty that strikes me to the core
Rendering me breathless with bliss
In shapes and stars and dates
In watching the breath and calming the mind
In watching the mind dance on the beauty of thought
In textures soft and smooth and fur
In music, expressing love