Wan morning; emptiness presses on my heart.
Here is the longing, again, the familiar yearning.
Yet sometimes, the in between moments are the best;
those moments when the emptyness of longing’s suddenly transformed
into the emptiness of being and becoming.
When winter sun has burnt right through first morning dullness
and you see the dazzling sheen of the large park pond,
and the happy ducks.
And the sadness pressing upon your heart is gone.
Once more you’ve settled into the day,
with all it’s small challenges and triumphs.
And you see that every heart’s much like your own.
Though age, experience and sorrow may have muted you, sometimes, still
the in between moments, the unexpected warmth of happiness
can soothe you still.
When just the curving lines of wintery trees, now budded, the dance of tree on tree,
of branch on branch; a robin’s sudden sweet and plangent song.
Upon these little swathes of city grass, the deep green spears of daffodils,
all speak of Spring elation
yet to come.
© IDF Andrew