Dawn Breezes

Coffee with cream,

steaming into dawn as

a sweet breeze sifts my hair.

Eyes closed in stillness

I hear the ocean in these rustling, rustling leaves

as if the trees speak in the language of waves.

And I wonder if, instead

it’s the ocean calling with the voices of trees.

As the rising steam moves softly sideways and away

I imagine these trees speaking of the shore

as

the ocean dreams of the forest.

And coffee with cream

shifts the waves

of morning leaves.

 

UniverseCheck.

forestcheckPhoto Credit: Anita Bowen Photography

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Reaching Out

soilI spent this early Spring afternoon with my hands in the soil. I knelt and methodically weeded and loosened the winter-packed earth. Then, carefully smoothed the surface and measured out my rows and gently settled the tiny seeds,  alternating and repeating double rows of lettuce, spinach, and carrots. The sun warmed my back; the breeze still blew with a chill. The earth released the scent of hope.

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