blue pencil shaving sky, white crayon shaving clouds, the sun like a harvest moon
a paint brush of rose petals dipped into the calligraphy of the sea
metallic ripples of lulla-byes in baby elephant pinks, chalky blueberry blues
little boats that wave goodbye
stillness of heart, calmness of soul
a peace with the cadence of a breath
come again to-morrow where we will say
1. Little girl, stroller, chubby cheeks, bunny hood.
2. Black cloth, slow shadow, head bowed, face dark, skinny ankles, dirt crusts.
3. Sun-lit trees, out-stretched branches, lime green leaves.
3. Bird cages, captured song, oppression-or-freedom, modernity-or-the-ancients.
4. Footbridge, light, sounded steps, rainbow reflections, faded-honey warm glow.
she said, “there was no reason I couldn’t have followed my dreams back then.”
the other replied, “that was as true back then as it is today.”
The Sun squeezed her energy out like cool splashes of citrus running down from heaven’s invisible glass.
The Wind let himself get tipsy from it.
A woman stood in the parking lot. The one unwavering spirit in the midst of busy bodies making bee lines here and there. Standing on an elevated block, she quietly slipped her hands into pockets. Wind blew towards her and she took a deep breath as if they met for the first time. Everything loud and busy around her. But she, she exuded a quiet present-ness, soaking up the current moment for all that it was. Careful not to miss a drop, but not wanting for more.
And that was enough.