I SENSE, I FEEL

I feel the breeze rise in my sleeves, 

the green of grass as it grows,

the firmness cold of stones, their grey,

the tides surge up the coasts and sigh, 

the wheeling shapes the birds make in the sky,

the temperature of summer, winter, fall.

the tumble of a beetle in its path,

the song of crickets in the memory's heart.

I feel the ghost of ancestors, on looking at their art,

the grandeur of the mountains make me tall and small, 

the softness of the coltsfoot's leaf, its wool,

the sharpness of the roses tags, and bleed, 

the sky's blue canopy, protection and abuse, 

the rivers course through jungles, woods,

the roughened gnarled old bark of trees.

I feel the shadow moving slowly round the clock, 

the dark night's shawl of void, no sight, 

the magnetic fields, their pull of gravity too, 

the gurgle of the streams as inner music, mine, 

the companionship of those I love, all the time,

the flow of words come as I write,

alive, awake, alert, in awe of all that moves, 

thankful to have lived, to see and feel,

I feel, I feel, I feel, I feel I feel.