It’s much cooler this morning,
\nI sit with my coffee
\nand book
\nand my feet are cold
\nmy husband seems to have found
\na golf course with his name on it
\nand so today, I quietly read
\nalone
\nthe girls have befriended a neighbourhood
\ncat, who ventured into our yard yesterday
\nand even though he sports a pink collar
\nthey have named him Tim
\nand despite said ‘pink’ collar, we all refer to Tim as a ‘him’
\nwhile being forced to leave him last night
\nin the dark
\non the back porch
\naround 10:00 as I said no to bringing him in
\nassuring them both, that Tim already
\nhas a home to go to \u00a0… \u00a0somewhere
\nand our own two cats and two dogs
\nmay not be as welcoming \u00a0as we
\nto this guest
\nstill
\nI can’t help but checking this morning
\nwondering if he is still there,
\nwaiting
\nfor kindness and affection
\nto return
\nI don’t see him, so I head to the pond
\nand then to my spot
\nin the sun
\nI close my eyes and raise my face, my chest
\nand my arms
\nto Light
\ntouch my forehead
\nto Love
\nthen bring them to rest
\nat my heart
\nto Peace
\nI stay in this peaceful pose
\nsurrounded by warming grace
\nuntil Mr. Blue starts to yell
\nslightly disturbed
\nI open one eye to watch him land
\nat the bird bath
\nand then suddenly I apologize
\nas it seems I have let it go dry
\nand he certainly would like me to know this
\noff then, to get the hose and a few nuts
\nas a peaceful offering
\nour little woodpecker is back
\nevery morning again
\nand the cardinals
\nthey never seem to leave
\nor tire of tapping the window
\nand teasing the cat
\nwhile I read
\nmost of the flowers now are
\ncoming to their ends
\nlying lazily around
\nand beauty starting to fade
\nas the season changes
\nalthough two of my roses
\nare still bursting forth
\nin radiance
\nvery few trumpets are left
\nand I believe the hummingbirds
\nare off now
\nhaving gotten their fill
\nfor the journey
\nthe bees are still busy gathering
\nin frequent flurry
\nI am feeling the slight ache
\nof endings
\ncaught between fading blossoms
\nand spider webs
\nsuspended in cradles
\nto catch the falling leaves
\nand sometimes
\nmy tears
\nas I find myself caught
\nby beauty, and Love
\nand aching tender hearts
\nand I try
\nsomehow
\nto cradle
\nthe roughness of this world
\ngently
\nand in my own small way
\nto offer it
\nkindness<\/p>\n
and so
\nonce again I find
\nmy place
\nin the sun
\nand I raise my arms
\nto Light
\nto Love
\nto Peace<\/p>\n
and here I rest
\nand soak this in
\nallowing these things
\nto fill<\/p>\n
and then
\nfrom somewhere above
\n(which is actually the upstairs window)
\nJoan Jett \u00a0and the Blackhearts begin to rock
\nas if on cue
\na small flock of crows
\ndecide to join in<\/p>\n
breaking my peace, or
\nbringing my attention here
\nto the grass at my feet
\nwhere I find
\nthis lovely little mushroom
\npatiently
\nquietly
\nawaiting my attention
\nto
\nLove
\nand this gift<\/p>\n
and in very great and full
\nGratitude<\/p>\n
I smile \u2665<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"