Icy wind rips
Up the valley floor
Churning turquoise and obsidian
Beneath the placid azure
Of a witness sky
Waiting for the stars
I have just the small talent
To capture in image
And evoke in word
An incomprehensible
Perfection
But the ducks
Won’t have much longer
To paddle in open water
Others find their way to gentle currents
Return to form from which they spawned
Then seek again the path to sky
Transform, renewed, to lightest flakes
And try once more for beauty’s grace
Lao Tzu’s words can be pretty difficult to wrap a Western, science-educated mind around (my own struggle is continuous), beginning with understanding the term “the Tao” itself.
In the day
This hulking grey
With windows dark
And broken glass
At night transforms
Bathed in warmth
A dinosaur preserve
In translucent amber
But there it is
The little jiggle
In the capturing moment
Where the house light doubles
Only I will notice, too
The crescent moved
As did the evening star
And the clouds
Pix to Words 