the dance of this morning

 

the dance of this morning

the Sun has risen this morning

and it sits just above the Eastern Horizon

smiling upon the multiplicitous landscape of life

beaming brightly

and rightly in it’s truth

the Clouds gingerly hang above

touching

and kissing

all that they can

playing peek-a- boo with the heavens

they let forth a soft offering

of gentle snowflakes

who like white winged butterflies

dance the sacred dance of the Mother’s call

and they surrender

as one . . . as all

Brother Wind has quelled himself

his presence is but a soft breath

that teases the leaves and the snowflakes

in a playful wonder

He too stands in observance

He too pays homage to the Divinity of it all

All the Trees of the Land

bow in reverence

and all the Flowers and Grasses and Shrubs

humbled themselves

to this pristine concordant symphony

the choreography of Life

i stand

and i witness this magnificence of being

this offering

this morning

of these flakes

who come to quench the thirst of souls

such as mine

and all who would observe

there is a synchronicity of need  being answered

somehow

and i know this

perhaps it is simply

my need for ponderance

and reflection

of the wonder

of creation

i am thankful

that all this magic

has converged

to my consciousness

here . . .

now . . .

in . . .

the dance of this morning

© 4 March 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.