And, she

Be the wild one

Who wanders the woods

Wanting for silence

But for, the song of the birds.

~Athey Thompson

this is how we unfold more easefully…

inquiry for today~ chances for bliss…

hindrances

Things are

changing; things are starting to

spin, snap, fly off into

the blue sleeve of the long

afternoon. Oh and ooh

come whistling out of the perished mouth

of the grass, as things

turn soft, boil back

into substance and hue. As everything,

forgetting its own enchantment, whispers:

I too love oblivion why not it is full

of second chances. Now,

hiss the bright curls of the leaves. Now!

booms the muscle of the wind.

~Mary Oliver