Street-abustle morn...
In my lodging room above,
Your smile fills my soul.
On my windowsill,
Flapping, a dove perches still...
Oh too close I freeze...
Feathers glistening
Metallic, yet soft-crooning...
Don't you fly away.
A contest entry
- Unconditioned Awareness by maa.
999 points, ended September 3, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Oh my. This is nice. And I'll tell you, I don't compliment easily. I can feel the "awe" of love in this small poem.
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a beautiful demonstration of looking and being looked at - without judging ...
in this moment of presence, all is well ...
nothing needs to be added ...
nothing to be removed ...
thank you for sharing a moment of grace,
maa
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good contrast
You have captured the sensory moment, and also referred to the intrusion of thought. I like your expression of "Street-abustle morn". Life is in the moment of seeing what is before our eyes without prejudice. This is a beautiful beginning to a good day.
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I was beginning to change "Street-abustle morn" to "Bustling morning street" when I saw your comment. Thank you for warning me against it.
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I like it because you evoke the morning rush hour in a different way. "Bustling morning street" is ordinary.
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You are perfectly right. Thank you, Margaret.
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Love, captured in a moment, Ros
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Thank you, Gwenevere. A bygone moment recollected...The world is such a pleasant place.
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