All is hazy in morning’s dim glow
somewhere beyond, doves are cooing, purring,
serving as nature’s alarm announcing daybreak.
They prompt me to still roads;
I shake off sleep’s muffle with each step.
At rhythmic pace, lost in thought,
mulling what’s ahead, fretting what’s behind;
tying mental strings around fingers of responsibility.
Preoccupied, I’m missing miracles all about;
the supposedly common put on hold for another day’s notice.
Leaving many wonders passed by,
presumed ordinary are mysteries that need
a bit of time to see past the familiar:
singing waters, darting cottontail,
a hush of wind, the birth of a leaf.
All go unnoticed, covered in the mental fog;
an unintended waste.
Suddenly all is pushed back
by the glorious blast of
a creature seated upon high.
Daring all to take notice, awaken to life—
for there’s a goose on a roof, three stories up.
Ripping focus from within and out of the trance,
it calls for regard
of this wondrous world.
