Matins

215614_1017995568068_754_n

Early

on this Sunday morning

I could not bear a sense of

being bound in the wordy, veneered in

pilfered affirmations or vagrant passages, so, I

stood at the window. My eyes

coursed along coyote tracks

left in the snow; a drifting mosey, northerly and

braided. The wolf of the prairie had

skulked in a stillness lit

by the moon adorned with Australia’s daylight.

My helping spirit had passed in the night

to remind me

he is on this burdened earth

somewhere

in this moment, striving. I took my

rightful place in the universe.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s