A Posture of Blue Being

Dancing shadows on a wall.
Flickering flames growing tall.
Sitting simply in a chair
at ease with Self, if you dare.

Homespun silence ~~ gentle call.
Seclusion speaks as veils fall.
Be the sunset sinking low
urging twilight’s subdued flow.

Beneath your calming thresholds
something longingly unfolds.
Nature shows her wondrous wing.
Snow-white crows shall ever sing.

A wind-swept window’s ski slope
clings to life with melting hope.
Snowy fragments slip away.
Sadly, nothing gold can stay.*

Beacons in the distance show
filmy light waves ~~ muted glow.
Night descends to blanket sound.
Atoms slow to deepest ground.

Waning ripples in a pool,
Smoothing patterns, slow to rule.
Silence rises in rare space.
Forms dissolve, deepening grace.

A posture of Blue Being
shrouded in dormant meaning.
A sleepy dasein slips in ~~
wakes to Self: “We meet again”.

*Nothing Gold can Stay
~~ Robert Frost