Happy birds rhythmically chirping,
A glowing beam peeks thru the blinds;
Shadowing lids gradually open, and I’m awake.
After completing the bathroom things,
I look down at those sage-aged feet
And quietly spiritually whisper:
“Ok, let’s get to stepping.”
These old feet and I, in our youthful 70’s,
Used to spend hours of nightly weekends
Rhythmically keeping the beat; dancing,
And playing my sage-aged Conga drum:-
Now in their early 80’s, we spend
Mondays thru Saturdays, in our
45 minutes morning-mile walk;
Spiritual rhythm still there:-
And in the warm summer, there
Are so many inspiring revelations
Of life’s supper supreme awareness:-
Each step in these morning walks
Is a conquering forwarding step:-
There are no steps backwards;
Even when turning around at the half mile;
The turn is towards completion of the walk:-
The palisade of the walk’s path is a green scene
With a polka dot rainbow of beautiful flowers;
Among which, are those giant sunflowers:-
Those tall royal flowers, standing and glowing
As if in praise of, and to, their creative name;
Pending thoughts that at least the heat felt,
Is not that of hell, but rather, that of life:-
The completion of the walk, forwarding to the beginning,
Mirrors the conquering of whatever hurdling trials
One may run into, during another blessed day:-
Despite the warring and cold warring days
We find ourselves challenged by today,
The walk mirrors there can be peace.
Let us continue to walk in the glory of God,
And not in that of man and his power cravings;
Forwarding the end of wars, and peace on earth:-