earth light

the clay right here feels unmovable but it changes and becomes loamy and soft under my feet as I walk to the rosebush and listen closely to her soft morning prayer.

today the crows are flying overhead towards the tallest elm tree in the neighborhood . it’s close to trash day and that always brings the birds back. they are loud with stories and calling out because the eagle is near.

The eagle, who may or may not be an eagle. climbs high in the sky. I pause to watch her fly. the wind eternal under her wings lifting her with such ease to the soft morning sun.

it’s magical and never gets old to my eyes.

Young chickweed peeking under the worn brown fences and purple nettle seeking refuge under my feet.

it feels like a small benediction flowing through the soul of this place.

I walk on and see the orange pansies in bloom. I thought they had faded and gone but see that they managed to figure out how to live through the wide winter, after all.