Winters breath across
the near frozen lake
and the sandy beach frosted.
Plump robins swoon from
branch to treetop.
Last years leaves
slowly drying and the air
filled a sharp musty.
Drawn into the space
away from concrete and glass.
Quiet, personal reflection
amplifies, becomes front and center.
Chatter, chaos, the fray
put on-hold
(it never dissipates)
lengthening distance the more
immersed within boundaries.
Skyward trees catch the setting
sun and throw back purple and orange blurs.
What we take with us
is our choice, no matter
the after thoughts.
Return to the surface
briefly
its still there, it waits.
Something is building,
something larger than the role
I play, beyond this existence
it pervades everything
here, each fiber connecting
and vibrating, speaking in simple
words and light –
or not at all – it only
matters what we see and hear.
