Sunday, June 20, 2010


The time of singing birds is come
With a glimpse of the divine
And although you say the beauty is
Just mathematically proportionate
The breath still catches in my throat
Makes me pause; the universe shivers.
Every morning a small miracle
Resounds around the world
Like Carthusian nuns at dawn prayer,
The rhythmic glittering of song
Fills the trees and the garden walls,
And resonates in the dew-soaked air.

-- miss w


LPC said...

mathematically proportion. sigh. lovely.

Marilyn said...

Lovely images - focused, sharp and sweet - on this hot day. More poetry, please.