The seagulls are blowing about
like pieces of white paper,
in the gentle swell of the breeze;
just as yesterday in a dust-devil,
I saw a piece of waste paper
doing the most graceful ballet,
turning and rolling up the brick wall
of a square pillar,
it folded and unfolded at the whim of the wind,
and catching my attention as it first rose,
kept me mesmerised by the beauty of it's dance.
Such suddenly presented moments
do not last, their very acts
caused by random air currents
that catch or snatch all delicate things,
and tossing them to space, play with them;
are these nature's toys, that she employs
fired with the momentum of desire?
She can overdo and bring catastrophe
on beach and hill, tear off chimney pots
crack the rocks and devastate this earth,
when she was only playing,
toying with her force,
and does she feel remorse?
Comments
Ann
I read this a night or so ago, but didn't have time to comment, it is a lovely world out there swirling around, I wrote once as you have, where I was at a Bus station and saw a ticket flutter from the hands of a girl and twirl its way to the ground, there time stood still and many stories came out of that one ticket falling through the air, as with your piece of paper..
Loved it, Yours Ian.T
Yes, if we are aware of
Yes, if we are aware of things around us, life is richer,
those who don't see, and there are many of them,
lose out on the richness of this existence don't they Ian?
Love Ann.
spring reveals its ballet
the clutter and whisper in wind freshets churning shadows
Intensely creative collected words here Ann
I appreciate this season and from my balance of visions
there is nothing like the return of movement in water
wing and wind
Thank You Esker!
A lovely comment Esker, "the
A lovely comment Esker, "the return of movement in water
wing and wind" yes and we have had the sun three weeks of it,
cold at night, but today the snow is falling yet again.
Love Ann.