at the door of night, my mirrored
pond holds the setting sun like a jeweland all the herons homeward go,backlighted against the trees
upon the shore we three standwatching rapt, as the thousandthings that formed this dayare folding inward slowly
(kerrdelune)
Hi Cate
ReplyDeleteA really beautiful post.
Guy
That's absolutely beautiful. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThere are no words
ReplyDeleteto describe the
beauty of this image
and words....
"...at the door of night." I love that phrase. Stunning photo... Your jewel of a poem reminds me of the eldering process - "folding inwards slowly..." You are amazing!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMy head is turned by ease of the words as they travel straight to my heart.
ReplyDeleteMy spirit says yes, yes, yes. This is how it feels to view the splendid beauty of our home, the mother earth.
Thank you for sharing by word and sight, the best beauty.
I love this! so amazing.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful--I always stop to read your poems.
ReplyDelete