The morning after shared time with friends at our house yesterday. Now…contemplation and reverie…
Burnished knuckles and polished stone
forever the preparation of home
last grout washed and paint brush stroke
at 3 a.m., the mat.
Reflecting on the days of battle – love of craft
and life by fruits of labor leading up to now.
Relax and heal in gifts of beat receding
The rewards of challenges metered out
By . The passage . Of time .
Do you hear it?
A tone, a tune, a metronome
Punctuation to every breath – the Sound.
First afar – from the roof of end neighbor's yard.
Then in my maple, a chorus of crows
Each call, a phrase replete with memory
and laid to rest in well-made bed
the scent of roses and thorns of rose.
Alarm well-set in pillows.
Yesterday’s crescendo and friends
to open home
and garden harvest in light
a love – resplendent.
Could it ever end?