Come here
I listen to birds call outside,
a few cars gun their motors on the trail.
Inside, the muse is silent.
I have not walked enough, not paused enough,
not held my tongue.
For too many hours of the day, I have pushed words onto paper,
forced them to step up to the plate,
toe the line, shape up.
Instead of letting them circle round,
sit still, lift off, rise.
I stand in the shadows, watch a curtain lift and let go.
A child calls to a friend across the street,
“Come here! Now. I need you!”
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Beautiful! The photo somehow complements the verse!
Thank you! You are always so kind.
wonderful words and photo!
Thanks! How are your classes going? What are you studying?
Beautiful poem. Sometimes, as I am learning, simply being in the moment is enough. The photo, of course is a dream come to life. The kind of photo I wish I could say I took but never will–at least here in SoCal where so many homes are air-conditioned and thus the windows are never opened. And if they were, there would be no thin curtains to blow up. Just slat, plastic blinds.
I covet central air in August, but I love open windows, especially in the early morning when the birds are just waking up. Thanks for sharing that.
Wonderful!
Beautiful photo! Beautiful poem!
Thanks!
I love that photo… so breezy and free. 🙂