In the Beginning
Posted: June 20th, 2008, 8:52 am
The new day sun stares
through the ivy-clad branches
of the Kentucky Coffee tree,
the great-granddaddy
of the back yard,
like a flaming Cyclops.
Lavender and rose tentacles
fan out from the Big Eye,
laugh lines on the face
of an old friend with muiti-colored
pastel dreadlocks and impossibly
long arms to hug the horizon.
From the aerie of my writing desk
on the third floor of my house,
miles to me above the gray squirrels
foraging for breakfast, I'm as privileged
as the starlings with my birds-eye view
of the promise that lies ahead,
well above the neighbor's rooftops
where the slimmest of branches
stretch their sleepy fingers
in praise
and try to reach high enough
to touch the Mother Orb.
The leaves from the ol' man
wave respectfully
in a steady wake-up breeze,
the weeping willow dries her tears,
bows at the waist, as the aroma
of dripping French Roast
tip-toes up the back staircase.
through the ivy-clad branches
of the Kentucky Coffee tree,
the great-granddaddy
of the back yard,
like a flaming Cyclops.
Lavender and rose tentacles
fan out from the Big Eye,
laugh lines on the face
of an old friend with muiti-colored
pastel dreadlocks and impossibly
long arms to hug the horizon.
From the aerie of my writing desk
on the third floor of my house,
miles to me above the gray squirrels
foraging for breakfast, I'm as privileged
as the starlings with my birds-eye view
of the promise that lies ahead,
well above the neighbor's rooftops
where the slimmest of branches
stretch their sleepy fingers
in praise
and try to reach high enough
to touch the Mother Orb.
The leaves from the ol' man
wave respectfully
in a steady wake-up breeze,
the weeping willow dries her tears,
bows at the waist, as the aroma
of dripping French Roast
tip-toes up the back staircase.