A Settling Mist

Outside -

a settling mist

falls so familiar

and so fair.

It is an imperceptible

blanket of content

morning rapture and

warm glow release

that holds me in

this place as if

melted in my own

bed at home - with 

Glinda; the boys

moving slowly

in their rooms

to greet the day.

It is here -

with a book

of simple words

and a cup of

coffee - I am

able to bring that 

outside air and 

bliss inside myself

to grow.

It is a full surround

gift of words and

notions -

slowly

trickling over the

rocks of mystery

and manner that

pulsate out from

the timeless beyond

and back.

This day

holds no special

claim on the life

that moves within

this sack of cells;

it is the scintillating

strand of poetry

that impresses itself

in me and back -

always back -

through time to

all their hearts 

and pens.  It is not

just Bly, and Hass,

Shihab-Nye, Snyder,

and Stafford

that glow; it is Frost

and Whitman, Shelley,

and Satho, Basho, 

and Issa - the

whole damned lineage

of word craft sorters

and impression laced

builders that shatter my

isolation with light.

Light creeps in slowly

and replaces my me

with a they that falls 

lusciously over the

rocks of time and

sings a melody of

infinite meaning and

a camaraderie of

of all that unites

us beyond our skin.