Otters Play Under the Herons
Clouds come in and out
water turns silvery to blue
and the titmouse just keeps
his voice like a high-pitched metronome.
I’ve lost sight of the otters.
Swallows hover over water
when the sun’s behind clouds.
Are insects rising? I’m unsure.
There is a gentle blanket
that wraps around my neck
during times of emotional rest.
It pulls up close over my shoulders
preventing too much thought
from filling up my injured brain,
protecting my heart from too much pain.
Woven from the natural order of life
resets my internal ecological balance,
keeps that large hawk soaring away..
If I am very
quiet
they come
close to me.
Focused on
their activity
single
minded care.
Single
minded loveliness
drifting
through tall dead cat tails
filling the
space with gentle fare
otters come
closer.
What have I
to learn from this
each day
after day?
I bring my swimming mind to
rest my eyes
on God.
At least
fifty swallows swarm
fifteen
ducks feeding nearby
And heron
sit on altars;
a birds' dance is mine.
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