She spins a beauty way
Gossamer threads
or chunky oil rigs
given half a turn
Her nimble fingers twist
preparing a new tapestry
while those who would philosophize
turn only phrases in their heads
———
Every spot is sacred
each moment divine
Her Spinning changes everything
Beauty’s essence in time…
He was one hum-dinger
And so was his song
And the winged one flew by
Silently in truth, knowing there was nothing wrong
“Keep the faith,” the birdie said
As ice fogged morning sprung to life
With every crisp footfall
And, he was aware, not afraid
In the quiet hours
Of his early morning moment
There is balance and peace
in each moment spent aware
Stepping along the planned path
It is another good day to be alive…
