Through Clouded Eyes
The melody of morning.
Black-throated desert sparrows
chatter in the palm fronds:
chirr…chirr…chit chit chit .
The sunrise, a glaring cymbal
crashing over the near mountain peaks
like a golden flood without
a ripple or murmur –
a great awakening light
warm and serene
shines into the heart and mind
radiates through every fiber.
Each precious moment entails
every other. Sacred places
suggest all places. Each man,
each woman exemplifies all others.
The challenge to keep the fire going,
The conversation and music alive,
the melody of the morning
to survive and thrive.
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