old granny's world

the wee brown bird waits
perched on a branch - head tilted
then the sparrows join

joy, a simple gift -
either given or received
a blessing is shared

I need to go home

not to the place of my birth
but to the ocean

the earth becomes green
with promises of new life
as old lives slip away

the black hat waited
and the folks strolled right on by
they all passed the hat

the wee brown bird sits
waiting for him to appear
with an early feast

3-4-14

adrift

in this sea of life
the random tides ebb and flow
- and we bob along

?????

- - not sure why I am back, where I have been or where I am going

and then ?

two koi fish glimmer
beneath the rippling surface
and dragon flies waft

"mmmmm"

she's not far away
I can see her smiling face
and hear her laughing

Why is the middle of the night the ONLY time my brain seems to function like I want it to? During the day it bounces and skitters like a ping pong ball in a wind storm or floats in a strange soft fog. But let the midnight bell toll and things start to come into focus. It is a strange phenomenon I shall attribute to the well known midnight oil theory. That must be what loosens the rusty gears in my head and gets them turning. However, that same oil must be what makes sleep keep slipsliding away.