JUST IS

A bird sings
the morning into being.

The sky itself seems
to emerge note by note

from its tiny throat
as if it sings sunlight.

A bud opens colouring the air
with the scent of itself.

The grass laughs with delight
in all its thousand green voices.

My naked feet
stepping through its words.

A flock of dandelions
alights about my toes.

Sunlight becomes the world.

“I am the here and now!”
it announces.

Season's greetings.
Sap rises without a second thought.

It just - "is."

A feather flutters as I watch time pass
amongst the garden's trees.

Wondering what bird owned this
balanced upon my palm

it takes to the air
as if it were the bird itself.

A feathered fractal.

A sudden gust blows a rook off course.
It stands its ground upon the air

returning to where it was before
the wind played its practical joke.

Oh how the other rooks chuckle.

A cloud does an impression
of Merlin the Magician.

Then impersonates itself
being a cloud again.

A lark skates upon a sky
as if it were the bluest thinnest ice

that it may fall through
into some other dimension.

A butterfly half drunk on flight
pretending to be a flower...flying.

A willow bows to me. I bow to it.
Humbled by its grandeur.

I, the least needed here.
All this would happen without my mind.

My eyes given the privilege of such seeing.
I, a mere observer

trapping in words
what can not be trapped in words.

Time drifts and I am left
with all this beauty

the beauty
just in being.