Poems From The Porch

photo by Bertrand Borie on Unsplash.com

I love watching the morning wake up and

hearing the day stretch and yawn into activity.

A tremendous, yoke-colored orb greeted me when I awoke this morning

and then disappeared below the horizon as light dawned sunny-side up.

Part of waking up is receiving the warmth freely given,

and acknowledging the cold,

making provision for it,

because both are always present

in a dance of give and take.

Now the light has moved down from the tree tops

to blanket the grass.

The contrast between what is in shadow and what is illuminated

is not lost on me.

The fire at my feet is the third force

which is mediating the polarity of warmth and chill for me this morning,

just like compassion stands in the gap

between kindness and aggression.