Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Meditating on a Stormy Afternoon

As I sit
Stockinged feet
On a cushion,
I am windblown
Through the open window.

The wind rushes by,
And the slight birch bows
Jerking its quiet leaves
Into a mad jig.

My gaze settles
On a patch of sunlight,
And I breathe in the coolness
Of an early afternoon.

Fragments of a thought
Dilate and grow.
They scurry by
Like the squirrels
I see darting
Over the gap
Of the still unmended fence.


Rebekah said...

Delight and sustenance, as always, thank you yet again. Your pictures capture light and peace the way Vermeer can capture silence.

Cha sen said...

Thank you for your evocative response.