Commanding Of The Wind

An opaque shell
protects small life
within a downy nest
and brier.
Inside the egg
the life takes shape,
observing the eagle’s
majestic silhouette soaring
before the sun.
No timer sounds…
a crack appears…
the beak struggles through.
What worm dangles before …
encouraging to press through?
And when the pieces scatter
around the prickly bed…
is it the scent of feathers,
perhaps a gentle nudge ,
or the screeching from afar
that pulls bird
down through gravity,
daring to defy?
Wear your crown,
O Baby Bald!!
You are Royalty
the moment conceived!
The winds will be strong
and predators fierce;
But an eagle’s shadow
is not a mouse.

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Seeds

So tiny;
Many shapes
and sizes
even a variety of color.
Many carried by the wind;
Others planted
by a plan.
Each require
sunlight ,
water,
soil
and wind
in order to grow.
Some will become
shade, building materials, paper….
Others provide
Nourishment, medicine…
Many will be
Worn, wrote upon….
Yet ALL will provide
Beauty and clean air.

Invitation To This Dance

If I’m all but ” cells ”
because the trials of life
plugged the only way
I can capture sound
that would melt my heart…
If I’m all but a ” mass of flesh ”
because the adversity
of the day
blinded the only windows
to this house ……
If I’m all, but ” me “,
because my mind
has vanished in time…..
Will you still dance
to the beat of my heart,
clothing yourself
with our fine memories
as we both await
The Train to The Banquet?