Cottonwood flurries gently lilt
like the impending summer's dandelion wishes,
before lightly descending wistfully
under the weightiness
of the morning coastal mist

The nearness of the blanketing stillness
is now so much closer than the sky
I can see clearly now
where all my shadows once dwelled

So nigh, this echoing silence at hand,
it firmly grasps a weighing loneliness
left drowning in the waning grandeur
of fading dreams

The poignant pang
of the dawning of the day;
nature’s soul stirring
silent manipulation

A conscious moment,
always rousing the potential
to evolve into a beautiful thing
                              
.                                                               ­    © April 2016