Monday, July 11, 2016

Quiet Time


The green grass breeze, slips through the window
as nine pups squiggle and dance in their morning sleep.
A grunt, a murmur, a baby moan, a miniature dozing bark,
bathed in filtered streams of purest light.

There is a meditation no sweeter
than the murmur and rhythm
of the tiny beating hearts.
Stilling my anxious mind.
Gentling thoughts of life's griefs.
Quieting the restless future.

Light, breath, warmth - summer's gift,
the gentle hum of the newborn, the innocent,
the return to self.


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