By Tony DeLorger © 2014
What concern draws me to still my breath,
to consider the hues of resigning day,
the echoed cries of life on wing,
and the shards of streaming light through cloud,
knowing that each moment is so much more than a gift.
The sight of dying embers arrests my soul,
within the comfort of my humble lodgings,
flickering light dancing, shadows in pirouette,
and the scent of pine, snapping, crackling,
as its chard remains surrender.
Thoughts wander, visions arise,
of rolling hills in green, studded with rocky outcrops,
shades of colours vast and harmonious,
as if strokes from a master's brush,
veil life with all its complexity and magnificence.
Beneath, the unseen reality of being,
the worlds within worlds, each cell a miracle, a universe,
each aspect a library of understanding,
fashioned with such a delicate hand,
and an omniscient intent.
My eyes can in no way recognise,
what miracles we truly are,
with all our perceived imperfection, we are perfect,
ensuing in a reality hardly understood,
and to our own detriment, taken for granted.
The room darkens, and I am alone,
drifting with the pleasures of the day now passed,
and each thought bears gifts of experience,
and the lasting beauty of each breath,
within this, our paradise.
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