It’s December
But this walk’s anything but snowy
Face is up and out
Fully receiving the wind
Wind that sings full on past ears
Winter breeze as only it can sound through leave-less trees,
Then through hangers-on with their higher pitched tinkling
Then through the pines with their smooth, streamlined, softer wave sounds in turn
Past the trees to an all wide open field
The grass dances green in the sun filled atmosphere
As the symphony sounds
The at-first-glance brown and spent Queen Anne’s Lace
Deceives it’s winter death and
Jives surreptitiously
There is no contrivance here,
No carefully practiced instruments
No score needing followed just so or else discord
All’s at rest but fully enlivened too and ready and willing
To perform
With the tiniest suggestion of wind or warm or moment
No self indulgent performance here
No need of accolades
Just a fullness of light and sound and Presence
Quite without any human intervention
Save its enjoyment.
wordskeepmesane 