Runaway Thoughts

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Everywhere I look 

the day tries to get my attention

a bright square of morning light

a silhouette of cup and vase 

bounces off the kitchen cupboard

a streak of light

lines a chair and corners the table

highlighting the contents of a cut crystal vase

light glowing from every window

screaming to get in

to wake me from my sleep

a beam of light throws itself

across the floor with intent

abrupt then fades in attitude

the kitchen, beautiful with life

walls and ceiling surfaced with patinated wood

nothing buckled or splintered from age

if we could only access its memory

turn the tape back with our fingers

and play the days again

topics of conversation would consist of

inches of rain or evening frost

schedule for seeding and field rotation

everyone having a job to fulfill 

feeding chickens, milking the cows

or delighting in the birth of a new calf

politics would not be a circus act

perhaps the walls are speaking

giving their opinions 

technology has taken the lead 

no one can say its totally wrong

perhaps just perhaps, we have grown blinders

tunnel vision for progress

such a rush to inhabit other worlds

while we disregard and disrespect 

the world we have been given

the imperious attitude travels much quicker

monstrous companies rape the earth

then stand on pedestals 

dropping pennies to the poor with one hand

while they rub their fat bellies with the other 

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this house of which I am so privileged to sit 

built long ago, of and for a family

it stands tall, straight and proud

built as a home for generations past and future

kitchen of seven doors and two windows
if only they could speak

these walls hold thoughts and time

they grew alive and still they breath

farm

two roosters calling 

their voices can be heard through the walls

wanting the gates to be opened

grains and water to be served

joy rushes through my veins

for their call will make me walk

out across the yard and witness

another sky saying good morning to the sun

and goodnight to the fading moon

june 9 2018

 

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Contemplation

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If I stand on the point of a needle
the wind will not be altered
raindrop will not glide down its surface
no shadow will be cast
if I stand on the point of a needle

will I be able to tick off each day
will I be in a meditative state
will I still see the sun rise and set
if I stand on the point of a needle

will I need
or will I just be
listening to the bass cello
drifting over me

will I be music
will I be colour
or change the sky
to something duller

if I stand on the point of a needle
will I be able to see
all that surrounds me

june 4 2018