MORNING EXERCISES

I

I write to the world this day
to sense the wonder
asking it to remember the chances
of it’s beauty.

In writing to the world this day
it is the joy of simply Being
of participating with your God
in bringing the depth of a springtime thaw.

The snowmelt engorges the stream
a long male member pushing down

the meadow below awakens with it
there is a newness to the banks
with the stimulated green
coming from deposits of a fertile brown, fine alluvium

beavers repair their woven dams
spreading water over stream banks
the long winter’s nights have given work to them
see them smile as they cut new limbs to weave

the farmer looks back on the newly plowed field
satisfied that the new shoots
will raise their green heads
towards the sun.

The poets write to give
a sense of the wonders
the beauty of broken winter
the people rely on us to do so
to remind them that their paths
aren’t necessarily muddy.

If even for only a few moments
the readers and listeners to the words
that even the mighty oaks
grow new leaves to shade us.

II

Forget what justifications as there may be
giving a elusive credence
to the crimes against humanity
the narcissistic despots propagate

the killing
the dying
an un-natural cycle created by constructs
of pursuing wealth above the spirit.

Stepping over the pollution
of plastic washed up on our ocean shores
ignoring the warning barks of our dog brothers
telling us to beware

we are all animals, children on our solid continents
unheard are the cries
from a wounded Mother Earth
that is rebelling against the wounding.

It is the lance from the picadors
bleeding red drops to the arena ground.

III

I write to the world this day
to again feel warm wonder
asking it to bring forth the new growth
of it’s beauty.

In writing to the world this day
to the joy of simply Being in tune
with your God’s sent purpose
in bringing growth to this spring’s thaw

touch the sprouts emerging
see the little yellow birds
on the tree limbs happily in the white flowers there
feel the smiling warmth of your dog brother

have seeds of wonder grow
in your place, from the ground of what is possible.

We poets write to give away strength
sourcing the pictures of their universal wonders
the people rely on us to do so
showing the beauty in the winter breaking
to remind them that their paths
aren’t necessarily rocky

focus on what color your beauty is
and that warmth from a bright and gentle sun.

Poem copyrighted 07/2023, Ray Whitaker