Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

each day now
the sun rises before I do
its warm yellow light
revealing the green of her eyes
as she opens them with a sigh
her breath warm,
fragrant
with Canada mayflower
viburnum
and the countless unnamed blossoms of spring
she murmurs a greeting
her voice vibrant with promise
like the sacred flutes of the hermit thrush
like the allelujah shouts of the ovenbird
like the fluid glissandi of the cardinal
all to the celebratory drumming
of the woodpeckers
she
lover
mother
earth
awakening after her long, cold sleep
and once more I awaken with her
another year
another orbit
around an undistinguished class G star
another verse
of an endless symphony
my hair now a little whiter
my beard a little more grizzled
my hearing a little harder
my vision a little softer
another joint aching for no reason
but goddammit
I'm still here
and this aging body
still works
(after a fashion)
so I might as well
kiss her good-morning
and make love while I can

Indeed she is a sweet mistress, the man grows worn and well used, I understand . The poem sharers the gift of recognition for the gift of the day it has a early rising feel to it also for me it holds an unusual quiet intimacy .We rise early in this house hold ,these mornings we are looking for a return of a hawk friend we have had to go missing .

sweet stuff....a fine ode from the eyes of a seasoned man appreciative of all he embraces

thanks gentlemen - a little Taurian meditation on my spring birthday

Beautiful writing
Joshu said the
Older you become
The more love
You need
U r blessed sasha

the older I become
the more love I find
in the simplest things

(thanks, wire - appreciate your comment)