November 2, 2006

Poetry Thursday - Dancing Lines

Everything here is dancing this morning,
motes of sunlight, shrubbery and pine cones,
leaves fluttering in the wind and bare trees,
windchimes suspended from the eaves,
streetlights swaying and ragged scraps
of paper blowing merrily up the street.

Here I stand amid these wonders, struck
dumb and amazed by the wild choreography
passing before my eyes, thoughts and lines
doing a happy dance too. How often I ponder,
may one write about such miracles without
rendering them dull and commonplace?

Written for Poetry Thursday