Sweet Spring Wonder

In the sweet spring wonder

The bud of my life opens,

Synchronised with the buds

Of the earth.

The air contains me

And the quivering bird,

Its heart broken open,

Broken into song.

Morning is beautiful,

Fresh as imbibed breath,

Acknowledged

As spirits subtle vapour.

The scent is the hawthorn

Of my childhood,

When I first saw,

When my eyes were first open.

I am here again,

Bathed in deliciousness,

Open mouthed

That I should be.

My Friend

The Scots pine glows red-skinned

In the morning light.

He is always there,

Watching over my life.

Sometimes he stands out,

As beautiful as beauty itself,

And sometimes he is invisible.

Today, his presence is called

And warbled by the birds

Hopping among his branches.

The breeze too has its say

In the vibration of a myriad needles.

Happiness

I walk in reality, breathing the breath,

Feeling the body, seeing with the eyes.

The world is beautiful

For it happens

Despite the thoughts in my head.

The garden grows, expands into spring,

The foliage lush with promise.

The cat sits by the pond, under the

Blossoming trees, and amid daffodils.

He breathes the air too,

Watching, always watching,

Thinking not one moment beyond the

Moment he’s in.