To Dwell in the Small Safety

of a dog’s heart beat

a brown bird’s song

 

a bench in the sun like

a sigh to float on

 

a felt wing flap when

a dove grays along

 

a collection of mornings

untouched by doom

 

the quiet shrine

of an afternoon

 

the laughter of leaves

in a sylvan wind

 

a hug allowed from

beginning to end

 

to live in the ordinary

again—

 

let me dwell in the

small things of life

 

that muffle the touch

and sounds of strife.

 

 

Leave a Reply