window of this morning
my window, today, is just a window
not a conceptual interface to some
equally abstract mindset.
a simple window, framed of wood framing panes of glass
containing an uncontainable view of an orchard
flooded in light.
a single blackbird adds that touch
of purpose with no transcendence, to which some
- including myself, on other mornings -
will lend their own avoidance of simplicity
in ornamented twaddle about inscrutability
of designs and mysteries to be disentangled
from the tangles of our own brain.
the same for the expanse of grass
plainly green because it has been rained on
and for the plum trees, blossoming because that is
what they do, when they are healthy trees planted
on rich soil and when spring comes – because it is
what usually happens after winter, when the earth rotates
as it always does, only closer to the sun.
the same, also, for the wind, blowing from the north
with no mythical name or anthropomorphic contours
of face, voice, or hands disheveling hair that is
naturally disheveled, anyway, because I just got out of bed.
to consider the unfussiness of this scenery
through the honesty of this rectangle
made of wood and glass that is transparent
because it has been recently cleaned
fills me with a sense of peace that can only
be defined as basic and natural.
as basic and as natural as the score of notes
with a cheerful lilt that the blackbird would
be composing, if it were a musician, but
which is just its way of calling its grizzled mate
before it pulls a worm from the ground
beneath the plum tree and flies
– naturally – away.
so, this curve on my lips
is just a simple, genuine smile.
© 2006 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®