Existence, Magpies and Love

Short Poetry on Deep Things

Photo by Chris Gresham-Britt on Unsplash

Magpies

Sometimes,
in the morning autumn sunshine,
with a garden
bedecked by magpies,
I can almost hear everything singing
in one glorious voice
of being

Existence

we are adored

held, as we are,
in the warm embrace
of our grandmother,
existence

and, sometimes,
those calloused, ancient hands
feel rough
upon our tender, newborn skin,

but, we are adored

There Will Come a Time

There will come a time
when we will all sing,
not in isolated, fragile tones,
but in vast armadas of harmony,
with the birds,
with the beats
and the wind,
and the sky

And our hearts will be lifted,
raised up into the holiness
of all that is