My window blinds squint out a slit of light.
No one can tell the view from here but me.
I see the June cherry tree out there, on the other side
holding bouncing chickadees that peck at branch aphids.
I hear the roof-spine morning seagulls barking orders
—when pushed off swiftly by rumble-crows for turf!
The rustle-bush below my pane shelters raccoons shaking soft
Without a sound, regal-mother deer and spotted twins walk
down the middle of the path towards breakfast.
I walk with them in my mind, think of oatmeal and coffee.
Then, tuck my leg back under the covers a little longer.
~Shannon P. Laws
“This year at the 3rd annual
event I read the poem pasted below. It stems from a moment in a day when, perhaps, you realize the day will continue whether or not you join it; the clock does not stop, and time marches on. A simple fact of our universe is that the planets will always spin. There is more to say, but maybe the poem will tell you how I found a moment of peace.” ~SPL World Peace Poets “Read-In for Peace”
Photo credit: Jon Cornforth (one of my personal favorites) Canada, Alberta, Banff National Park, A dramatic sunrise over Mount Rundle from the Vermillion Lakes, http://cornforthimages.com/
It was a feminist morning
The sun came up because it wanted to.
—it really did.
and it demanded that I respect it’s decision.
and I did—I really did.
I was thankful that the sun always rose
Even those days I couldn’t see it
even the days in deep winter when I
questioned it’s existence
A bookmark in the sky.
Reliable as clockwork.
A thing of legends.
A monument to time itself,
whether I saw it,
whether I believed.
Because some things are true,
whether you believe in them