a fresh breeze
appeared at dawn
to wake the slumber
from my walls
planting seedlings
for another round
here as always, to astound
like fallen leaves on summer's end
brings green and splendor all over again
while mourning doves start to coo
calling migrants to come back too
stronger, wiser than before
the breeze persists,
tapping closed doors
the universe—never, ever far behind
appears too—side by side,
opening walls, removing the blues
for one to see and take the cue
to jump right through
and leave the snooze
even if, there's no clear view.
Comments