Listening to every heart
Spring Sunset Ė Chapter 2
Mornings are more relaxed now,
we know the old cows and new calves are
munching on unsullied grass just
coming up between the
deep-rooted stems and deteriorating
leavings of winterís harshness.
The sun she creeps in a little
sooner every morning,
light streaming through level blinds
and a smell to the air
that is a bit musty with birth of a new time.
And we donít leave as fast for the pasture, but enjoy a
cup of roasted coffee fine with cream.
Once at the pasture, it is
enough to step carefully
so as to miss the muddy ruts and not slip
on springís rainier leavings of potholes
and muddy wells from where
the treefrogs have left their burrows deep.
Cardinals, sparrows and whippoorwills,
quail, bluejay, and turkey all
make their noises and chirpings and calls
but do not drown out the knock knock knocking of
the red-headed woodpecker.
Again the day passes quickly and now
with the slight heat of the late afternoon and
a mix of heaviness in the air, I pause to
look to the west, where the sun is setting,
and sigh as the cumulus clouds begin building
white at the top, black underneath, and the sun
below them, strange that the sun does
not enlighten the bottom but only intensifies
its rays at the end of this, another day.
And the lightening begins.
Words will always express our feelings true.