Bite your tongue
One place to get to and here we are
but a hair’s breadth away.
Watch where you next step;
it may lead to a gate.
And beyond –
a garden rich, spacious,
redolent, varied, serene.
Step back to take in the whole view.
Bite your tongue to hear the birdsong.
And to smell the blossoms –
stop sniffing your own sweat.
People become free of care
when care is taken seriously;
light-footed when burdens
fall from their shoulders; tipsy.
Ordinary perfection; ubiquitous singularity.
Wordless poetry; thoughtless profundity –
it’s all awaiting us in the garden beyond
that even row of staunch white pales.
O child of God, a glimpse of heaven
reveals – you’re not in the picture.
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(photos by Stevehoward2203/StillWorksimagery- Pixabay)
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