The ticking of a clock
Wind chimes singing in a gentle breeze
Leaves moving in the wind,
calling down to me from their place so high up,
branches reaching towards the sky.
The sky
bright brilliant BLUE filling my eyes,
broken only by white pure puffy clouds
that hang and float
as if they own the expanse of sky that holds them.
Bright pure white against deep, penetrating blue.
The branches rattle their leaves calling my eyes up
to drink in the vast blue love that shines down
On me,
way down here on the ground,
on the earth.
This magnificent earth that holds me,
supporting my feet as I walk across a little piece of her.
Walking across the yard to the barn
my feet carry me across the earth,
who holds the barn and the cows as we all are covered
by the loving blanket of the sky.
Sitting in the quiet morning house,
listening to a ticking clock,
hearing wind move chimes to create beautiful music
that fills up a space so well,
a space that reaches hungrily,
accepting beauty as all it will ever need.
